If a tree falls
by nightblight
Summary: A twisted GSR... Angsty for sure...NickSara friendship. Never know where my head will take me but this one has been rolling around in there for a bit. Not to worry I am working on Interlude toooooo.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me except Alicia Telis. I am playing with them they are my muse. I promise to give them back in good order. This is a twisted GSR... but then what is romance without a little work. Alicia BTW is not a Marysue type character - I hate them.

As is my tradition NONE of this is beta'd - I know I should have it done but I am terribly impatient.

* * *

If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it… does it still make a sound?

**Chapter 1**

A crescendo of dry retching could be heard coming from the dank and redolent alleyway. There'd been a roaring downpour mere hours before and Mother Nature in her tantrum state had made the normally ghastly smell of decay and filth, almost overwhelming by tossing several inches of water into the mix. Add to that, the stench of a two day old decomp that had been snack food for rats and the like, and Nick himself had had difficulty keeping down the ding dong he'd dined on earlier in the evening.

The sound was faint and almost distant as though the person being sick was trying to disguise it in some way. In fact, it would probably have been lost in the normal din of the Las Vegas night if its occurrence hadn't been such a shock to the person standing on the other side of the cement block wall. Sara Sidle had rarely ever been sick on the job. In fact Nick could only ever remember one other time. "Hey… you alright?"

Two dark eyes peered around the wall and met with a nod from the woman who was too busy aiming what was left of her stomach contents into a random garbage can, to respond normally.

"Like hell you are." The tall dark haired CSI stripped off his gloves, shoved them inside a baggy, and dropped them into his case. "Sar, you just lost your entire dinner and half of your stomach lining." A warm hand was placed on her back. "Let me call Grissom, someone else can come out here and help me. You need to go home, Buttercup."

Earlier back at the lab, Sara Sidle had looked positively green in the harsh light of the break room. At the time, Nick Stokes had considered saying something to Cath while was she was handing out assignments, but the blonde woman had been extremely ill tempered. She'd even gone so far as to climb up Greg's ass for some seemingly unimportant comment. In light of the acting supervisor's mood, the Texan had kept his opinion to himself figuring that since the slim brunette was paired with him, he would be able to keep an eye on her.

In retrospect, his silence had been a bad idea. Sara's face had become completely ashen in the car, and had grown even more ghost-like as she emptied her belly into the stinky olive colored garbage pail; she was presently cozied up next to.

"He's off for the night, so please don't bother him with this…" Sara said in between heaves. "…and Cath…" the young CSI waved her hand as if that explained everything, and then coughed up some more phlegm.

"Yeah I know." Catherine Willows had been pissed off for the better part of a week. No one knew what the exact root cause of her short fuse was, though all of them had their suspicions. It was the same thing that had the rest of them walking around on eggshells for the last two months; Alicia Telis, the attractive, self proclaimed know it all, new girl CSI… She was Ecklie's pet, and if rumor was correct, Grissom's new girlfriend. And to say that Catherine didn't like her would have been understating the obvious. Though they had come to an uncomfortable truce after the first two weeks, clearly something had gone down recently that no one was privy to. As a result, the usually approachable Willows was on a tear that had no one wanting to be partnered with her for the previous five days. To make the situation a little easier Grissom had worked with the older woman and left the rest of them to partner up. Not a simple thing to do since no one really wanted to work with the newbie, either. Fortunately for everyone, Grissom had doled out the torture fairly evenly, almost everyone in the group had been forced to work with her– but only once in the five day period, and two days in court had seen to it that Sara had been fortunate enough to avoid having to deal with the woman at all.

"I'll be fine, can you just get me my…" Another heave wracked her body, and Nick reached in and pulled Sara's hair back from her face, "purse…" She continued once her stomach had stopped its latest assault.

"Uh…sure…" He was unwilling to leave her alone, but realistically didn't have much of a choice. "I'll be right back…" He told her and high-tailed it back to the Denali where they usually stored their personal items. True to his word he was back within a minute, Sara's oversized bag dangling from his hand.

"There's a blue package of wet wipes inside, can you grab me some?" The tall brunette instructed. _You're done puking_, she silently ordered her stomach; after all there really wasn't anything left to come up. But she was till reluctant to step away from the garbage can just yet, instead she stood, bare hand pressed against the rim, hoping to God her rebellious digestive system would cooperate.

"Okay… yeah…" It was odd. After being smacked in his junior year of high school by a petite redhead named Annie Melba, Nick Stokes swore he would never go through a woman's purse again even if asked. Fighting off the flinch reflex that was ingrained in him, he tugged the zipper aside, reached in and tried to find the package with his eyes closed. A moment later his hand reappeared clutching the slick plastic folder. "Here…" Yanking one of them out, he reached over and held the cool cloth to her forehead.

An almost visible sigh escaped her chest, as she inhaled the wipe's comfort for a moment and then gingerly took it from him and drew it over the rest of her face. "Thanks…"

"You should really be at home, you know…"

"I know I'm a liability right now…" Sara managed still dabbing at the corners of her mouth. "But we're almost done here. Let's finish up and go back to the lab, and then I'll head home."

"Sara, you're in no condition to finish anything up. You're gray for God's sake. And I don't mean your hair…" He added.

Chucking the wipe into the can, the slim brunette tugged on her shirt tales and then straightened her vest. "We only have ten more minutes here max." She reasoned. "I'm done at the side of the house. I was ready to throw my stuff in the truck and then give you a hand when all this happened."

Grim faced Nicky glared at her a moment wondering what the odds were that he could bodily pick her up and get her to the truck without getting punched.

A slight smile spread across the young woman's face, almost as thought she new what was going through her co-worker's mind. "I'm okay now, really…"

"No you're not, but you're too damn stubborn to listen." With that Nick haphazardly shoved the wipes back into her purse and the passed it to her.

"Oh God…" the smile immediately melted off Sara's face and a moan escaped her. The hand that had been reaching for the purse suddenly found purchase garbage can once again, and she turned immediately as a mixture of water, phlegm and something green forcibly made its' way out of her mouth. The purse quickly forgotten hit the ground with a thud its' contents bouncing in every direction.

Nick wanted to say I told you so… It almost fell off the tip of his tongue but instead he placed a warm hand on her back. "I'll take you back to the car…let's go…"

Sara waved him off. "I'm done…"

"Sara…"

"No really…" To prove her point she tentatively stepped away from the garbage can and leaned over to pick up her stuff.

"Look, Evans is up at the front." Nick followed suit and began grabbing at a collection of odds and ends and passing them back to the young woman beside him. "He can give me a hand loading up the truck. You go sit." He held up a package of condoms and turned a lovely shade of red, before passing them to an equally crimson Sara Sidle.

"I'll grab my stuff and then go to the car."

It was a compromise and Nick knew it was the best he was going to get. "Okay. I just need to get some samples from the wall and I'm done too."

Clutching her bag Sara, turned and made her way back towards the lot and abandoned house they'd been processing.

Spotting a white bottle still laying on the ground Nick reached over and swiped it up. "Sara… you forgot these." The words were out of his mouth before he even had a chance to read the label. A moment later he was staring into two worried brown eyes. "What the hell?" He held them up to the woman whose hand was now out stretched waiting for the bottle. Immediately everything fell into place, and the look on Sara Sidle's face confirmed it.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer part 1:

A/N okay, admittedly, I start with an idea and it blooms. In this case the bone structure was in place, but the meat didn't get filled in until this chapter. I wasn't sure if this was going to be a case file or strictly a character piece… surprisingly, it's going to be both.

Nothing too bad here… A swear word or two…

Thanks so much for all of the reviews - you are all amazing readers, and you feed my soul!

Forgive me - as usual my impatience has left this unbeta'd.

**Chapter 2**

"It was beside the house three minutes ago, Nick. I swear." Sara looked equal parts concerned, panicked, and ill.

"It's not there now."

Sara made to get out of the truck, but her co worker held her in place. It had taken him another round of vomiting and brief argument that ended with a threat to carry her to the Denali before she had agreed to return to the vehicle and let him finish up on his own. The pill bottle was a subject not yet broached, as her return to the garbage can had nipped any such conversation in the bud. It had been set aside for the moment, his desire to clear the scene and return his sick partner to the lab becoming his main priority. He would deal with the other issue later.

It was a reprieve the slim brunette was grateful for. "Let me go look. I know where I put them."

"Sar… there's nothing there. I swear. Look the house on the west side has no access to the front, and the back and the east side are completely empty." Nick tried to reason with the woman as she climbed weak kneed from the truck.

"They were there. Three brown bags, and a large baggy with six smaller baggies inside." She made her way unsteadily towards the place where she'd left the evidence she'd collected.

Nick Stokes had loaded most his stuff into the vehicle after the two had made their way back to the CSI truck, when he went back the rest of his was still there but her's was gone. "It's not there now. What did you collect?"

"It was here three minutes ago when we passed." She ran her fingers through her hair and stared at the ground in disbelief. Her head shook slowly as her thoughts flew by going a mile a minute. Frantically, she recounted the stuff she had collected. "Two shell casings, a bloody rag, a casting of shoe print, possible fingerprints from the outside of the window sill, a bag of gloves, a blood sample I found in the grass, and a tooth. All of it was pertinent and most of it was irreplaceable, Nick, this is bad."

His phone was already out of his pocket.

"Tell me you saw it when you passed by with me."

Nick shook his head; he'd still been reeling after seeing the pills and focused on getting his sick partner back to the truck. "I saw it when I went to get your purse, after that..." He searched his thoughts. "No…"

"Who are you calling?" Concern laced the young woman's voice, as her partner hit speed dial.

"Cath." This caused a grimace to grace both their faces.

It was not a call she really wanted to bear witness to. Soon enough she would hear her own fair share of recriminations at the hand of the moody blonde. "I'll be back." Sara wobbled slowly along the side of the building her hand pressed against the chipping paint of the dingy gray siding. She was still fighting back the occasional bout of nausea, and though she was at loath to admit it, she was desperate to go home. It had been a bitch of a night.

"Where are you going? If the evidence is missing then that means there's a good chance the suspect has come back for something." He tried to reason with her, but she shook his words off.

"I'm just going to check around the shrubs at the back to see if Evans moved it before he left or something."

Officer Bill Evans had been the first on the scene after a vagrant had discovered the rotting mass that used to be a body. A seasoned professional with 15 years of service under his belt; he'd done what was necessary, taped off the perimeter and waited. The two CSIs had arrived on the scene shortly thereafter. Collection, though some what arduous because of the rain and state of the body, had gone relatively quickly once Dave had taken away the corpse. By all standards it was not an unusual case. Aside from Sara's being ill, everything had gone surprisingly easy, so once the young woman had reluctantly agreed to sit out the rest of her time in the truck and most of the evidence was packed, they'd sent the cop on his way. It had been a poor decision in hindsight, but was standard practice.

"Do you think he could have taken it, maybe loaded it in the police car?" The Texan had followed Sara along the side of the dilapidated house, and was anxiously listening to the dull ring on the other end of his cell phone.

"No…I mean, why would he?" Spying no sign of her evidence bags, Sara shook her head in frustration, and slumped up against the side of the house; her slim fingers immediately going to her temples in an attempt to massage away the pounding headache that was beginning to take hold. "Evans is a pro, he's worked with us before, and he knows protocol."

Nick turned away at the sound of Catherine Willows on the other end of the line. "Cath, we have a problem." A short conversation ensued punctuated by moments of extended silence.

Feeling progressively weaker Sara slid down the wall and sunk onto the grass before dropping her head onto her knees. A moment later she was joined by a tall Texan.

Shoving his cell back into his pocket, Nick nudged her slightly with his shoulder. "You alright?"

The slim brunette didn't lift her head, she simply shook it.

"What's up sunshine? I think you have something to tell me."

Her words were muffled. "I do and I will explain the whole thing to you, but not now, okay? Later, after work." She shivered and hugged her knees.

"Alright, but I'm sorry this is one promise I'm gonna hold you to." He leaned into her adding his body heat to hers.

It was a cool night, the rain having chased away the heat of the day. Sara'd been fine in a flimsy yellow cotton shirt and jeans for the better part of the evening because her work vest had leant a little warmth, but she'd gotten some vomit on it earlier and had to remove it, allowing for the cold to set in. "Maybe we can grab a bite to eat after."

A soft moan escaped the young woman. "Don't talk about food." She mumbled.

"Right…sorry…" Hoisting himself up off the ground he reached out a hand. "Come on. You'll catch a chill sitting on the ground."

Dark eyes met dark eyes and a small smile crept across Sara Sidle's face. "Yes, mom…" She placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up. "What did Catherine have to say?"

Placing a hand on the small of her bath, Nick prodded her along. "Nothing much she was surprisingly calm."

"Maybe someone slipped an Ativan in her coffee when she wasn't looking." The slim brunette joked lightly.

Nick laughed at this. "Maybe we should check Sanders' locker, wasn't he paired with her tonight?"

"Yeah… I thought she was going to chew his head off before they left." A small relieved smile spread across the young woman's visage.

Nick agreed silently, secretly pleased as some of the tension left his partner's shoulders. "She said she was close by and would be here ASAP. She sounded shocked, but not angry."

"I don't know if that's a good thing or not." Having reached the Denali, Sara opened the door and slumped into the passenger seat. "Maybe she's saving up to ream us in person."

"Nah…" Nick leaned against the truck, and stared down at the woman next to him. She was still as white as a ghost. "Even if she's pissed as hell over something, when one of us is in trouble she'll step up to the plate."

"Maybe for you or the guys, but our relationship has always been a little strained."

Nick contemplated Sara's comment for a moment. "That's not true and you know it. We've all had out run ins with each other over the years. Just you watch - she'll have our backs on this."

Sara shrugged angrily and rubbed her forehead in frustration. "She shouldn't have to. This is entirely my fault."

"No…" He said evenly. "It's both our faults, Buttercup. We're in this together."

"How is my poor judgment your responsibility in any way?"

"I knew you were sick the minute I saw you. I should have said something." He grimaced at his own comment.

"It wasn't your call Nick. I know I shouldn't have come in today. I just…" Sara's words petered off. She hadn't wanted to stay home staring at the four walls. Sick or not she had forced herself to get up, get dressed and head into the lab.

Nick waited for a pearl of the young woman's logic, when she didn't finish he reached over and squeezed her shoulder trying to soothe away the sudden sadness in her eyes. "It's okay; we'll get it sorted out."

Already beating herself up over the situation, the slim brunette turned her eyes to the man standing beside her. "This…" She paused, and tried to find the worlds to formulate what was running through her head. "This is such a fuckup. I know it's not a landmark case, and in this area I know the victim is probably a homeless guy or a junkie, but someone clearly killed him, and now…" her words hitched slightly. "Now how can we get justice for him?"

The same thing had been running through the Texan's mind. Had there been another person with them, he would have already be out frantically searching for the missing evidence; but as it stood, they were alone and there wasn't a chance in hell he was leaving Sara for even a second until someone else was on the scene. "Don't worry, we will," was all he could manage, though in his own head he was infinitely less sure than he sounded.

Behind them a second Denali and an Impala screeched to a halt.

"Hey…" Catherine Willows was out of breath as she ran up, with Brass on her heels. The new arrivals perused the front of ramshackle property. "Just take from the top for me."

Sara and Nick exchanged surprised glances. Despite her calm demeanor on the phone both had been expecting a replay of the rampaging woman from earlier that evening.

Nick opened his mouth to speak, but Sara cut him off. "It's all my fault. I was sick. When we got here I wasn't feeling too hot, but I collected the evidence anyway. Bagged it, tagged it, and then I…" She cast a nervous glance in the Texan's direction, and then frowned. "I was feeling worse. I didn't want to contaminate the scene so I ran into the alley and uh… I threw up in a garbage can out there."

"Had you cleared the alley?" Already knowing the situation was bad, and that her two CSIs were upset, Catherine did her best to keep her tone level.

"Yes. That was the first thing I did." Nick responded before Sara had an opportunity to. "David was with the body. I let him finish up, while I checked the lane. The lock on the gate was rusted shut so I really had to play with it to get it to open. Not likely that there was much evidence out there, but I thought maybe the shooter might have dumped the gun somehow."

Catherine nodded at the CSI, carefully contemplating his words. "Did you find it?"

The young man shook his head. "No. All the garbage cans were empty; the alley too. I think today may have been garbage pick up."

"Great." Jim Brass pulled his cell from his pocket. "I'll get someone over to the landfill until you can send a couple of people there." He stepped away from the three CSIs and moved back towards his own vehicle.

Nodding at Brass, Catherine shoved a loose strand of hair behind her ear and leveled her blue eyed gaze in Nick's direction. "How long was the evidence out of view?"

He shook his head. "All totalled, 5 minutes maybe… I went to the car to get Sara's purse. It was there when I passed by both times. Besides, Cath, the scene was secure. Evans was at the front. We were at the back. No one could have gotten in or out without being seen." He indicated the six foot brick wall that ran around the building, and the trail of barbed wire strung out along the top of it.

"Two men of my men are on their way to the dump." Brass had returned and was now leaning up against the truck along side Nick. He looked like he could seriously use a drink.

"What happened next?" Catherine was absently eyeing the property and the small home that was sitting on it. There was a cluster of overgrown hedging that completely blocked her view into the front yard. It was the only part of the home that wasn't bordered by the wall.

"We grabbed my bags and camera and brought them back to the truck. Sara was still a little under the weather so she stayed back here while I went to gather her collections and the rest of mine."

"When did Evans leave?" It was Brass this time, and he was looking gravely perturbed at the thought that one of his men might have had a hand in the whole affair.

"Just before I went back to get Sara's evidence bags and stuff. His wife is in labor, he was supposed to be off duty and hour earlier, and we were technically done."

"You said you brought your stuff back first, where was Sara's?" Catherine eyed her two CSI, and noted that the young woman was so pale that she was almost translucent.

"Yeah. Mine was at the back near where we found the body. We couldn't carry it all but grabbed most of it, and headed up front. Sara's was beside the house. I went to go back to get the last of my bags and Sara's and it was gone."

"You said you saw it when you were running back and forth between the truck and the alley with her purse." Brass wandered around the bushes and cast a glance into the back yard.

"Yeah." The Texan responded, his arms crossing his chest protectively, as he shuffled from foot to foot.

"Did you see it when you were returning to the car together with your evidence?" Jim Brass returned to stand beside the group his curiosity with the layout of the land somewhat satisfied.

"No… But I wasn't looking. My hands were full, and…" He stopped, not wanting to point a finger in the direction of his partner.

"And I was still feeling sick, I distracted him. But I saw it. I looked to make sure it was there." Sara had continued on knowing full well what Nick had been trying _not_ to say. "I was trying to figure out if I could grab it too, but my hands were completely full.

"So basically it went missing while the two of you were at the truck, and whoever took it bypassed the rest of Nick's evidence which was closer to the alley and walked further into the yard… from the back, to take specifically your collections…" Catherine waited for confirmation and then grimaced when the slender brunette nodded.

Sara's hand was shaking as she ran it through her hair. "It was all pertinent and mostly irreplaceable, Cath. The bullets, bloody rag and tooth were irrefutable in a court of law and would be the crux of the case." She looked up at the three sets of eyes staring at her, and a light seemed to go on. "I can, however, recast the footprint and resample the blood…" And that's what she set out to do. Rising to her feet, she staggered slightly before she was pushed back down onto the passenger's seat by a heavy hand.

"I'll go do it. You stay." Nick moved off towards the back of the truck and grabbed some supplies.

When he'd disappeared around the corner followed by Jim Brass, Catherine turned to the younger woman. "No offence, but you look like shit."

Sara couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice at the older woman's comment. "Why thanks, Cath. I feel like it too."

Rolling her eyes at her inability to say the right thing where the younger woman was concerned, the blonde reworded her initial remark. "Look, that didn't come out the way it should have. What I meant to say was; you should be at home sleeping off whatever it is you have, instead of out here in the field sick as hell."

Sara nodded knowing full well the woman was right and that the cure for what she had, might be a long time coming. "Yeah… I know. I'm sorry. This is all just extremely frustrating and embarrassing and… Oh God!" At that moment a wave of nausea hit her like a Mack truck. Immediately, Sara's hand went to her mouth and pushing Catherine aside, she made a beeline for the grated drain near the front of the truck. By the time the older CSI had joined her, Sara was already spewing what little there was left in her stomach, into the ditch. Green slime, blended with something red hit the puddle at her feet with a slap and then slowly slipped down into the sewer.

"Nicky, get over here," Catherine Willows' yell broke the relative silence of the street. Sun up was only a few minutes away and not surprisingly there was no activity to speak of at that particular hour. In answer to her holler, a light at the end of the block flicked on and then off again. By that time, the young man she'd called for was already coming around the bushes. "I'm sending you home." She told the younger woman, who was still hunched over in front of her.

The brunette opened her mouth to protest, but Catherine cut her off. "After that display, don't even bother."

"Yeah…" Nick's shout was out of his mouth as two women came into view. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out what was going on as his eyes fell on his partner hunched over the sewer, a concerned Catherine Willows at her side. Quickly he dropped the brown bag he was carrying into the open hatch of the Denali and made his way over to them.

"Take her home, now."

It was an order the man was more than willing to oblige, so he grabbed Sara by the elbow and carefully led her back towards the vehicle. "Brass is checking out the back. The new casting and blood samples are in the back. I'll drop her off and then head back to the lab with the evidence." Nick reported, as he attempted to help the protesting brunette into the truck.

"No." Catherine stopped the two of them with a hand on Sara's arm. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a set of keys and handed them to Nick. "You take my truck. I'll take yours. And this is not about trust." She leveled them both with a solid gaze. "It's about practicality. This way you can take her home and make sure everything is okay without needing to hurry back, and I can see that the rest of the your evidence is logged in."

The Texan nodded silently, and led the pale and still protesting Sara towards the other vehicle. "What are you going to do?" Completely ignoring the brunette's complaints, he popped the lock on Catherine's truck and practically shoved the younger woman into the passenger seat.

"I'm gonna get my stuff, drop it in your truck, and then give Brass a hand checking things out at the back. Then I'm going to call Grissom. He needs to be told."

A soft moan escapted Sara Sidle at the mention of their supervisor's name.

"Okay. Then I'll see you at the lab." With that Nick nodded, slammed the passenger door shut and moved to the driver's side. A moment later they were gone.

* * *

"Find anything?" 

Jim Brass was wandering the backyard with a flashlight, by the time Catherine Willows caught up to him. He shook his head. "Nada…"

Grimly the blonde nodded at him, a familiar feeling washing over her as she thought back to an incident a few weeks earlier at one of her crime scenes. Moving past the detective, she made her way out of the gate and began randomly checking the empty garbage cans along the lane. A moment later she found it.

"Hey Brass…" Reaching into the can, she pulled out two brown bags and a large plastic baggy. All three items had sustained some form damage. The baggy had been slashed and the bottoms of the two paper bags were soggy and soaked through with vomit. "This look familiar?" The state of pissedoffedness that had slipped away earlier was back with a vengeance. "Fuck!" She yelled, her voice bouncing down the empty alley. Angrily, she kicked at the ground causing a small black object to bounce a few feet away. Intrigued, she followed it.

Passing the bags to Brass' who'd come up behind her; she bent over and picked up the item resting at her feet. After a quick inspection of her own shoes, she let out a small smile and placed it into a baggy of its own. "Well it's about fucking time." She said to no one in particular.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer part 1:

A/N: Thanks to all who have reviewed… Believe it or not, they're like a drug… very addictive. Pushes me to write more. Forgive me, any mistakes are mine. No betas here. Also you will get another notice for chapter 2. Sometimes I will notice an error and go back and repair it, when I do this FF creates another notification so sorry.

I also owe you an apology… I'm sorry, but I had to… You'll get my meaning when you read this. I generally like to take my characters off the beaten path… makes for a more interesting read, so bear with me because even though the topic is familiar, the story won't be… PROMISE.

Chapter 3

"_I don't know what to do about this." He'd never wanted children, or at least thought that he'd never wanted children. Now faced with the realization that he was, or rather could eventually become a father, he found himself both horrified and introspective. For two solid days he had gone without sleep, his intellect chasing around the terrifying reality of his present life. There was no simple answer; and his conscience as high and mighty as it always stood, had been inexhaustibly busy kicking the shit out of his heart the entire time. Finally, sometime earlier that morning the organ had finally shattered and he'd come to her with the truth._

"_I know what you have to do and I think you do, too." Her eyes were dark with tears, but she kept her chin high and even managed a small smile. "Feeling the way I do about life and all living things I couldn't live with myself knowing that in some way I was responsible for…" Her words petered off. She was unable to verbalize the thoughts that were scampering through her head. What she did know was that the pain in her chest, though brought on by emotion, was almost cripplingly physical. His truth was one that had blindsided her._

_Grissom stepped up to her his hands moving gently to grip her on either side of her face, his thumbs tracing delicate circles on the lightly freckled skin of her cheeks. There were tears in his eyes and he smiled at her sadly. "But, I love you." With that he took her into his arms and kissed her with every ounce of emotion he could muster. Somewhere in the back of both of their minds they both knew that as wrong as their actions were morally, emotionally they were a buoy to two drowning people._

_They made love; as deeply and fervently as two lovers reluctantly admitting to each other that it was over. The next morning when he awoke, his bed still damp with sweat and semen from their fervent passion the night before, he was alone and he knew that despite the new direction his life was about to take, he would forever be that way._

* * *

"It's chamomile…" Nick held the cup out to a yawning Sara Sidle. "I put cream and honey in it." He announced dropping a plate of crackers and cheese in front of her. "The crackers will help settle your stomach that the cheese is good for you."

Sara couldn't help but grin despite the flux of emotion that were rolling through her. The _thanks_ she uttered was truly heartfelt. Taking a sip, she moaned with pleasure. It was a hell of a lot better than the mixture of toothpaste and vomit that had been assaulting her taste buds for the past few minutes. The tea was rich and went down easily, its sweet creamy flavor easing away some of the tension she was feeling. "Nick Stokes, you are going to make someone a great wife some day." Her words were thick with exhaustion but she managed another smile for him.

"Don't knock it, Sunshine. My mama raised a good boy. She used to tell me that a true measure of a man had everything to do with the way he treated the women in his life." He dropped onto the couch next to her and took in his surroundings. He'd been in her apartment a number of times but only for a few minutes and only to drop off something from work. It was an eclectic mix of items, and decorated in a deep eggplant. It was very Sara Sidle; unique, colorful, and moody.

"Your mother sounds like a great lady." Gently blowing on the tea she watched the steam rise off of it for a moment, then placed it on the coffee table beside her, and grabbed a cracker. "I met her briefly when you were missing. She seemed really nice." Popping the saltine into her mouth, washed it down with a gulp of tea, and then stared at him thoughtfully. "You have her eyes."

"Mmm… and her smile… I'm told." He picked a piece of lint off his jeans, recollections of his child hood bringing a grin to his face. "You know, she's kind hearted, but strict, and smart as hell. I couldn't get away with a damn thing when I was a kid. She would just take one look at me and know I'd done something that would have my ass hurting for a week." He nodded. "She has unerringly good mom radar, and I think all of my sisters have inherited it too."

Sara looked worried at this. "Do you really think something like that is hereditary?"

"Hell yeah…" Giving into his hunger, the Texan reached over, popped a slice of cheddar into his mouth and savored it a moment before continuing. "All of my sisters have it and man, I pity their children. Especially, my nephew Matt… he's 4 and a real devil, so I know he'll probably spend the better part of his formative years standing because sitting's gonna be way too painful."

"Oh…" Sara thought back to the abuse and indifference of her own childhood and absently hoped he was dead wrong about mothering styles being hereditary, otherwise any future children she had would be doomed from the start.

Reaching over Nick squeezed her arm in an attempt to shed the faraway look in her eyes. "Okay, out with it, Princess."

In response, her eyebrows rose in askance.

"Now, now…you promised." He reminded her, and watched as she sipped her tea, hoping that she wouldn't renege.

She grimaced. "I don't suppose I could take the fifth…"

"NO…." He shook his head adamantly. "Uh, uh…"

"Would you believe that my doctor says I should take them because I am a vegetarian and they have an amped up level of vitamins and minerals?" She looked almost hopeful at this.

"That actually might have floated if you weren't so sick today." Nick stared at her grimly.

"I honestly think I might have a touch of the stomach flu." Sara said seriously. "The only time I have ever been this ill before, was when I was in college and came down with this wicked stomach bug. I was a mess for two days and lost four pounds puking." She frowned at the memory. "I caught it from my boyfriend at the time."

"Did you catch this from your boyfriend, too?" Nick prodded.

The slim brunette rolled her eyes at this.

"Come on Sar…" Until she uttered it he never thought that one word could hold so much pain.

"No…" She swallowed hard, the tea suddenly becoming bitter in her mouth. Blinking repeatedly, she fought the cluster of tears determined to form in her eyes.

"Sara, you promised." He gently reminded her.

"I meant, _no_, he wasn't my boyfriend…" Her voice was small, and then she added. "…At the time."

"So are you seeing each other now?" These were inherently personal questions, and Nick knew full well that he was overstepping an unspoken boundary between the two of them, but look of hurt his friend's face forced him to dig further.

"No." Pulling her knees up to her chest, she placed her tea on the coffee table, and hugged them.

"Okay." The next question stuck in his throat for a moment, before he managed to force it out. "Does he know?"

She shook her head, and smiled sadly. "And he won't." She added.

"Being a guy, you already know what I'm going to say…" Nick reached over and wiped away a tear that was lazily making its way down her face.

"No…I can't and I won't tell him." She was resolute, the tone of her voice leaving little room for argument.

"Okay…" He was willing to concede the disagreement for the moment. The issue wasn't dead, as he pledged to revisit it again at a later date, but in the interest of not upsetting his friend any further he was willing to let it drop. "Do I know him?"

Doing her best to keep her face passive, Sara remained silent. She shook her head, but the look of guilt on the young woman's face said it all…She was lying.

"Can I tell you what I think?"

Two dark orbs met with a similar pair and the young brunette bit her lip, before nodding and averting her eyes towards one of the forensics magazines on the coffee table. She couldn't look at him. Her face would be a dead giveaway if he was right in his assumptions.

"Okay." Seizing a cracker off the plate he popped into his mouth, this action giving him a moment to formulate his thoughts. "I know you don't sleep around." He started. "I also know you're not the type to go out to a bar get plastered and bang some dude." Nick reached over and gripped one of her hands in hopes of trying to draw her attention back to him. "I know you spend the better part of your time at work, and when you're not at the lab, you're usually at home. I know that for the last 5 years, you've turned down almost every guy who's asked you out, except that loser Hank dude. I know that for as long as I have known you, you've had a thing for the bossman, and I also know that as dysfunctional as he is, he feels the same way about you. That's why, I'm pretty certain it is someone I know."

Sara drew a shuttering breath, but didn't respond.

"Tell me I'm wrong, Buttercup, and I'll drop it."

She didn't, instead she shook her head. Silence sat between them until it was almost palpable.

Nick was beginning to think that she wasn't going to tell him anything more when she finally spoke; the expression on her face was one of intense hurt. "You ever hear the question; _when a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?"_

Concerned the Texan squeezed her hand, and nodded.

"That's what it was like. I mean… No one knew, so for a while after we split I had a hard time believing that it had ever happened." She brought her dark eyes up to meet her friend's, and pursed her lips.

"I'd say at this point, you have irrefutable proof."

She accepted this, and nodded. "Yeah. Well for a few weeks there, I thought I could kid myself that it had never happened. You know. That it was a dream and nothing more." She shrugged, her voice dropping discernibly. "It was just easier that way."

"You need to tell him." The dark haired man pointed out gravely.

"No Nick. He's got his own thing going on now. I can't." Her face twisted.

The image of Alicia Telis' flashed in his mind's eye and he ended up sporting a similar scowl. "I can't believe he would…" Anger and disbelief laced its' way through his worlds.

Sara shook her head. "Nick, don't judge him harshly there's a lot more to the story that you aren't aware of."

"Like what?" He couldn't believe she was defending the man.

"That part is not my tale to tell, it's his." She avoided her friend's gaze, and instead chose to do a visual inspection of the unusual grain of her carpet.

"Don't you think that everything would change if he knew?"

She was adamant. "He's not going to know."

"It's going to be pretty hard to keep under wraps in a few months." He leveled her with a knowing gaze.

"I still don't know what I'm going to do, yet."

He'd known that was coming, and as much as he had expected it, he was also pretty certain he knew the woman saying it. She would never willingly take a life. Though, he wasn't about to argue the point with her at the moment. "Alright. So how far along are you?"

The slender brunette looked confused for a second and then grinned painfully. "A few weeks only, I think."

"When did you find out?"

"Five days ago. I took a test after work one day, but I had my suspicions for a couple of days before that."

Nick was about to dig a little deeper when there was a tight rap at her door. Their eyes met and she silently begged him to keep her secret. Again, he squeezed her hand and then moved to answer it.

He was more than a little surprised when he tugged open the door to find a fuming Catherine Willows.

She pushed her way past him and entered the small apartment. "We need to talk."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: in part one.

A/N : okay forgive me. This is not beta'd. I'm wiped and will probably discover some errors tomorrow. If that happens I will fix them and repost.. Thank you all for reading and reviewing. You can all have some psychic chocolate on me.

**Chapter 4**

"I'm home…" The tall slender redhead literally bubbled her way through the townhouse dropping bits of her belongings hairy-carry all over the place. Her running shoes ended up in a pile in front of the door, her ipod was dropped with a clunk onto the coffee table, and the light blue jacket she'd been sporting on her morning jog, had been tossed carelessly over the back of one of the tall wrought iron chairs in front of the breakfast bar. In the kitchen right beside where the sleeve of her jacket landed there sat the dinner dishes from the night before.

"Are you up?" Her voice echoed sing song through the large loft like abode and nudged the man still laying in the comfort of his bed towards some sort of consciousness. A moment later the door swung open, its knob landing with a resounding thud against the brick of the wall, small flecks of white gray paint spraying haphazardly across the dark wood of the floor.

"We have an appointment at 8:30. Remember?" Bright green eyes danced as she literally bounced onto the bed beside its still drowsy occupant.

How could he forget? The appointment was the reason he'd spent the better part of the night tossing and turning, amidst the rambling thoughts in his head. There was no way he'd accumulated more than an hour's sleep the entire time.

"Come on, get up sleepy head…" All of the sweetness and light in the young woman's eyes disappeared at the older man's reticence. "You promised." She reminded him her voice taking on a hardened edge.

Still shaking off the residual sleep that was dampening his mind, he smiled tightly. "You're right."

Like a child given full reign over a candy shop, she threw him a perfect hundred watt smile, and pulled off her pale green jogging top revealing two perfectly pert breasts, sans bra. In a heartbeat she was on him, her body grinding into him greedily, doing it's best to precipitate the desired response. "You are so precious, you know that?" She moaned.

"I thought we had an appointment…" He gently reminded her, doing his best to stop his body from reacting to the situation. They were going to be late.

She was in the middle of trying to suck his tonsils clean out of his mouth when his cell phone began to dance across the bedside table. Immediately, his hand flew out and slapped its way along the surface of the table, until it made contact with the desired item. A sigh was heard as he drew it to his ear.

In an instant the half naked woman was laying by herself in bed as Gil Grissom rolled her off of him, and climbed to his feet. "Grissom…"

Primarily a one sided conversation, the call lasted all of two minutes. "How far out of town?" Silence then, "I'll be there as soon as I can," were the last words out of the graveyard supervisor's mouth.

Alicia was on her feet all of her earlier playfulness and humor banished. "You aren't seriously going in?" There was a pout with an underlayer of anger lacing her words. "Our appointment with the minister it's more important than whatever they need you for. I'm sure that Conrad can handle the problem. He is after all the assistant director."

Already tugging his clothing from the thick oak drawers he turned slightly before making his way into the bathroom. "It's my job. I'm responsible. I have to go in. Reschedule." With that he closed the door softly behind him.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Catherine hovered over a silent Sara Sidle who, in her opinion was doing a great rendition of a sheet of paper.

"A little better." It was a lie and both her guests knew it.

Deciding to tackle that issue later the older woman nodded and dropped onto the faux leather ottoman in front of the slim brunette. "Well I have some good news." She held up a photo detailing all of the evidence that had gone missing.

"That's my evidence. You found it…" In the picture it was spread out on one of the layout tables at the lab. A relieved grin formed on her dusky face, bringing with it a little color.

The blonde nodded as Nick leaned in to stare over Sara's shoulder. "Where?" His eyes were dark with worry as he examined the picture.

"In a garbage can in the alley."

"That doesn't make any sense." Sara shook her head and tramped down another bout of nausea. "I mean why would a suspect steal the evidence and leave it where we could find it? Why not take it with you and toss it somewhere else?"

Pulling the photo from Sara's grasp Nick took a close look at the items on the table. Silently he shook his head, knowing immediately what the problem was.

"Whoever it is is smart. They know a little about forensics, probably how to get around a crime scene without being spotted and they know our protocol and procedures." Taking the photo from Nick she passed it back to Sara and tapped it. "They cut the plastic bags, and the brown ones were damaged by the remains of your dinner."

"What?" A look of confusion spread across the young woman's face.

"I'm pretty sure that the garbage can where I found the stuff is the same one you were throwing up in."

"Oh…" A scowl lit the young woman's tired visage.

"It had soaked through the paper bags, damaged the stuff inside. The plastic ones were also compromised. Fortunately, whoever took it missed the tooth… the seal on that bag, as well as the bag itself, were left intact. If it's not the vic's tooth then we might have caught a break."

Sara nodded her mouth twisting into a grimace. "So we have a clean footprint, a blood sample and the tooth that aren't compromised?"

"Right. The shell casings, and fingerprint should technically be eliminated."

The blonde woman's earlier statement finally sunk in and Sara's face screwed up into a frown. "Wait… how are you so sure that this person knows anything about forensics? I mean couldn't it have been beginners luck?"

Catherine had been expecting that question the minute she'd made the statement. She shook her head, animatedly. "Well aside from the fact, that not only were the bags slashed, and not just dumped like a normal criminal would do, the same scenario has happened to _me _twice recently."

"What?" Losing evidence was a massive screw-up. And a screw up that big was usually fodder for the lab gossip pool. Nick hadn't heard a thing about it.

The acting supervisor stared at the two CSIs for a moment, trying to decide how much to reveal. Two perplexed sets if dark eyes stared back at her, so she decided to go for the full Monty. I was, after all, the reason she'd come. It had taken her a while to admit it to herself that she needed the help. Up to that point she'd been trying unsuccessfully to solve the problem on her own. Maybe, she surmised, with two others, they could get to the bottom of it. Either way someone else needed to know. The problem had moved beyond just an issue with her and was now affecting someone else. Namely Sara.

Eying the twosome carefully she began to tell her story. It had all started a month or so previously, and had seemed like nothing in the beginning. They had all been minor things; paperwork misplaced, and item moved here and there, keys to the evidence locker lost then found. The older woman had originally chalked it up to being distracted or other people getting into her stuff, normal lab goings on. Then her evidence had gone missing at a scene and she'd freaked. With the help of Brass and Warrick she'd located it in a nearby dumpster, but the damage had already been done - both to her reputation and the case. The first time it had happened she'd reported it to Grissom, and he in turn had run interference with Ecklie. From that point on the situation had gotten progressively worse. Things had gone from being temporarily misplaced to permanently missing. The second time the evidence had disappeared she'd forced herself to do the unthinkable. She found it – this time in a connecting alleyway - resealed it and presented it as never having been missed.

Both of the younger CSI's mouths hung open when she'd finished the story.

"Well that explains a lot of things…" Sara said softly.

"Yeah like why you've been s…." Nick stopped himself.

The older woman cut him off. "Such a bitch, Nicky?"

The Texan turned a lovely shade of red. "_I was going to say_… so angry lately."

"Potayto, potaato…" Catherine grinned painfully.

"Hold up." Sara shook off the sense of doom floating rising to the surface of her mind. "You re-bagged the evidence and presented it as normal?"

"Yup."

With a trembling hand, the pale brunette tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as gawked at the other woman in amazement. A shiver ran threw her and somewhere deep down inside, her conscience was telling her that this was information she absolutely didn't want to be privy to. "Cath, you could get fired if anyone found out. That goes against almost every rule in the book - in terms of the evidentiary process, and…and… well just everything."

"I know. But other than you two, and Brass – who's been in on this from the beginning I might add - no one is ever going to find out." She leveled them with a warning glare.

"Brass knows?" A long whistle escaped Nick Stokes' mouth.

"It was his idea…"

"What? He was the one who told you to rebag it?" Sara was both incredulous, _and_ ill at the thought. For a moment it looked like she was going to be worshipping the porcelain God again.

Moving quickly Catherine grabbed a wastebasket from beside the younger woman's desk. 'Here."

Sara shoved it aside and it landed with a thunk on the colorful area rug. "How can you be so sure no one is going to find out?"

Catherine Willows was pacing now, doing her best to wear a hole in Sara's dark hardwood floor. "No one will. At first I thought it was a perp, who came back to get their stuff. That's why I reported it."

"But now you think it's someone at the lab…" It wasn't a question but rather a point in fact. Nick shook his head solemnly, when the assistant supervisor nodded. "It can't be. I mean, aside from the security checks and everything…" Strong fingers moved to his head and he massaged his temples liberally, almost as though he was trying to rub the thought out his brain entirely. "Cath, we know everyone there. I trust every one of them with my life, man. That's just not possible."

"Everyone?" The question hung in the air, the infinite silence before a chaotic explosion.

All three of the people in the room stared at each other, uncertainty etched into each of their faces.

It was Catherine who spoke first. "Before you say it, I know exactly who you're thinking, because that's the first place my mind headed, as well. But you're wrong. She has an alibi for both of the days the stuff went missing. Brass personally checked them out." The blonde woman's face twisted like she'd suddenly eaten something rotten. "I would love to pin it on her." She sighed. "But just because she's an irritating bitch doesn't mean she's guilty. There has to be someone else." She slumped back onto the ottoman.

"Aww, man…the lab…are you sure?"

"Look Nick, if it was a perp, or someone like that trying to ruin the evidence in the case against them. I would already have been busted. Right?" Frustrated, she threw her hands out to the side. "Most criminals aren't smart enough to keep their mouth shut when it comes to a situation like this. They think they're smarter than us. The first thing they would do is run their mouth off to their defense attorney. Who in turn would run to Ecklie." The two people sitting in front of her still looked unconvinced so she continued. "Only someone with no vested interest in the evidence itself wouldn't have brought it to the lab's attention. It's not about the evidence; it's about the act of stealing it and the repercussion. Up until today I thought someone was out to get me."

"And you haven't said anything about this to Grissom? He needs to know Cath."

Catherine pinned the younger woman with a look. "No he doesn't. Not until we figure it out."

"We?" Nick shook his head. "How did _we_ get involved in this?"

"_You_ got involved when the evidence from your case was stolen this morning."

"But you reported it, right?" Sara needn't bother to have asked she already knew the answer.

"No. I brought it back to the lab took the photo I showed you, and then re-bagged it." With that she walked over to her purse reached in, and yanked out a fist full of yellow seals. Grabbing a black marker she returned to the woman on the couch. "You need to sign and date these, and then I'll go back and put them on the bags."

"Oh, my God…Catherine, you can't seriously expect me to go along with this. It's…" She struggled for words. "It's wrong, on a moral and elemental level. We'll both get fired."

"Hey I'm party to this too." The only male in the room added.

"Tell me you agree with me Nick?" Sara stared wide eyed at him.

"Look. Before I re-bagged the stuff, I documented it, just in case we need it." Catherine offered.

"Need it for what?" Still trying to sort out where the woman's head was at, the Texan didn't want to commit to either side of the argument.

"Cath, two wrongs don't make a right." The slim brunette pointed out. "Even if you… or _we_… find the person responsible for this, then the evidence is still not viable in the eyes of the law."

"That depends, actually…" Waving the seals at the younger woman she dropped the marker in her lap, and then placed the yellow tape over top of it.

"On what?" Snatching up a few of the seals Nick, grabbed the marker, and scrawled his name and the date across them.

"Well if it is someone from CSI who's lifting the stuff, then technically the chain of custody hasn't been broken."

Sara moaned. "That is such a stretch…" Grimacing, she then seized the marker from Nick. "It's my evidence. I should be the one to sign it."

"This is my investment." He handed the endorsed yellow tape back to Catherine. "Slap it on one or two of the bags."

Sara rolled her eyes at this, and finished the last of her signatures.

"Great. I'm going to head back take care of this, and then head home to grab a few hours."

The sun was already high in the sky, and the weight of the night was fully weighing on all occupants of the room.

"I'm gonna follow you into the lab as well. I should be there to check the stuff in."

"I'm okay to come in, too." Rising to her feet Sara made it all of five steps before she felt her legs go out from under her.

"Whoa there princess…" Nick was at her side instantly. His arms coming up to stop her fall, he just managed to grab her by the waist before she hit the ground.

"You are not going anywhere." Catherine ordered matter-of-factly.

"I'm just a little light headed." The slim brunette struggled to get up, but was firmly held in place by both of her colleagues.

"Sara, for Christ's sake you're SICK! I don't want to see you until tonight, and even then that's only if you're feeling better." Catherine looked from the younger woman to Nick. "You know what? Go home Nick, get some sleep. We'll deal with all of this tonight."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: chapter 1

AN/ one bad word – I think. Eyes are buggy so I'm not sure how many errors are in it. Hopefully none… likely lots. Don't hate me this really is an angsty GSR… but right now I am following the characters. Thanks to all who review… you keep me writing.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Since I was off, I'd like you all to bring me up to date, when everyone gets here." Gil Grissom crossed the room and poured himself a cup of the inky noxious smelling brew that passed for break room coffee. He took a swig and almost gagged. "What the heck is this?"

"I don't know; but Gris the room just became a little more rank the minute you walked in…" Nick wrinkled his nose, stepped away from his boss and moved to take a seat on the couch furthest from the man toying with the coffee machine.

"Yeah what were you doing swimming in raw fish?" Catherine walked past him and sniffed before grabbing a banana off the table and joining Nick on the couch.

"Decomp out near Lake Mead, lotsa bugs, losta smell. No lemons…courtesy of Greg."

The nightshift supervisor pointed out.

"So he's hiding from you?" Catherine allowed her eyes to wander the room noting that the former lab rat had yet to arrive.

"No…" Grissom took a final mouthful the swill in his cup and dumped it down the sink. "I sent him out for more lemons."

"Oh…" Sara Sidle turned around and walked out of the room she had just entered. She was eternally pissed at herself for her touchy stomach and for making a scene, but it was either exit or puke. Standing outside she took a long slow gulp of the chamomile tea in her travel mug and pretended to search her pockets for something. She could feel the eyes of the others in the room on her but for the time being she ignored it preferring to focus on keeping the half digested soup and bagel she'd had for dinner, in her stomach where it belonged.

"You don't look so good." The sing song voice belonging to Alicia Telis grated on Sara's nerves. "I hear chamomile tea is the cure for whatever ails you." Alicia smiled at a rather green looking Sara Sidle as she passed by and entered the break room. Her comment – carefully aimed - went unheard by everyone inside the small space - as had been the intention.

Breezing in, she grinned widely at Grissom and then took a seat alone at the table. A slight grimace passed over her face when she realized the pungent odor coloring the lounge area was in fact emanating from the man who had just taken a seat next to her. Her smile faltered momentarily, as she took a moment to recover, then she turned and planted a quick kiss on Grissom's cheek before grinning at the rest of the occupants in the room.

Nick scowled and did his best to ignore both her and a red faced Grissom, while Catherine simply glowered back.

Outside the door the slim brunette did her best to keep herself from throttling the woman who'd just walked by. It wasn't an easy task by any means, as the Alicia's flippancy dredged up a homicidal tendency that had keenly settled into her abdomen right along side the overwhelming nausea that was already brewing there.

Turning away from the room and the group inside, it was by sheer luck that Sara didn't catch the public display of affection, which would likely have had her acting on her urge to kill. She closed her eyes against the spinning in her head and placed her travel mug on a nearby cart before moving away from the windows and the four sets of eyes inside. Hopefully they would think that she'd simply forgotten something. Leaning up against the wall, the coolness of the cement did little to soothe the chaos of emotions and physical upheaval she was experiencing and the hands of her hormones and the woman who'd just waltzed by.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to sleep, but mostly she wanted to forget their encounter earlier that week...

_Sara Sidle was moving slowly. A painful lethargy had settled in after the shock of a missed period followed by three positive pregnancy tests, had finally hit home. It had been twelve hours that had been riddled with sleeplessness, tears and cold hard fear._

_Two of which were relatively foreign experiences to the young woman. _

_I was no longer just a scare, but a horrific actuality. Not that a fetus was horrible, but rather the reality behind its' conception and the outcome of the failed relationship that brought it about, meant that the situation was less than ideal. _

_And that was a MAJOR UNDERSTATEMENT…_

_In fact, if asked, the young CSI would have said the entire state of affairs was fucked… Royally! And there really was nothing she could do about it._

_Mind you this conclusion of course came shortly after she'd passed through the rollercoaster of emotions that had followed the initial numbness._

_Standing at her locker, at the beginning of shift, her shattered heart and its pieces were lodged somewhere between her stomach and her esophagus. That could be the only reason she was finding it so difficult to breath, Sara surmised. Things being what they were, the last thing she had wanted to do was come into work that night, and face a smiling Grissom, and an overjoyed and unfailingly attractive young woman named Alicia Telis. _

_They were getting married. They'd announced it that morning just after shift. Or rather Alicia had imparted the news in extremely joyous manner. Grissom had remained quiet, sullen, almost pained… at least that's what Sara had assumed the look on his face was all about. _

_It had never been easy to tell with him, even when they were together._

_Lame congratulations had followed from both co-workers and friends. Sara had shaken both of their hands, tossed a strained smile their way, and headed directly for the morgue. The place was empty as it was between shift change, so she rifled through the medical supplies and grabbed her prize, an EPT pregnancy test. Leaving 10 dollars next to the rest of the stock she'd headed back up to the ladies room and put to rest her suspicions._

_In retrospect, Sara should have waited a little longer… Both blows: His imminent marriage and her impending trek into single parenthood had been a shot from hell._

_Digging through her stuff trying to find her vest, a cold anger had burned in her chest. It all seemed terribly unfair._

_Normally, relationships between team members were disallowed at the lab. There were rules in place that prevented couples from working together. It was the main reason she and Grissom had kept their short lived relationship a secret. But the fact that Alicia had gone to Ecklie and was a royal kissup with regards to the Assistant Supervisor clearly allowed her special privileges. All it had taken was a simple wink and a smile from the woman and she'd been allowed to switch to nightshift to be with her boyfriend - now fiancée. There were a few rules, of course, none of them terribly traumatic. Firstly, Ecklie himself would do her evaluation, and secondly they were not to work together high profile cases. Simple enough._

_Pissed off Sara kicked a shoe off and pitched it into the locker. She was mid throw on the second one, when a bag was dropped at her feet._

_Dark eyes met green, as she looked from the sack to the woman who had placed it there._

"_Grissom told me this was your stuff. We don't have room for it at the townhouse." Her voice had the affect of nails on a blackboard. The slim brunette had almost gagged on the spot._

_Her mission complete, Alicia had turned and walked out of the change area._

_Opening the bag with shaking hands, Sara studied the contents with an aching heart. There had been a large tin of her specially blended chamomile tea, a lace thong, and a few books; all in all - the tattered remnants of a torrid and excruciatingly short affair._

_It had brought her to tears, the evidence of which had been wiped away with visine and cold water, by the time she'd joined the rest of the team for assignments._

"Hey girl, you okay?" Warrick Brown had stopped mid stride upon seeing the pasty shade of his coworker's face.

Not trusting herself to speak, the young woman nodded and then bolted for the locker room.

"What's the matter with Sara?" The gangly CSI asked as he entered the break room his face screwing up at the smell.

Three people were on their feet instantly.

"It's okay I'll take care of it." Nick announced. He was already at the door and blocking both a concerned Grissom and agitated Catherine from exiting. "She was a little under the weather last night, so it's probably just the residual effects from it."

"Under the weather in what way?" It was a valid question, one a supervisor had every right to ask, though Grissom's eyes betrayed more than an employer's concern.

Nick would have none of it. He wasn't aware of everything that had gone down between the two, but if he knew one thing Sara; was hurting and it was his boss' fault. "Stomach flu, I think, but she seemed better today when I picked her up from home."

Grissom squinted at the younger man, the grooves in his face becoming deeper. The question was in his eyes even though it never reached his mouth.

In the past, Nick would have attempted to ease the man's concern by offering a full explanation as to why she didn't drive her own car to work that evening, but at this point in his life he'd grown well beyond the need for the older man's approval. Instead, he simply trotted off towards the Sara's destination, passing a harried Greg on the way.

"Hey what's up with Sara? I just caught her worshipping the porcelain God. She doesn't look so good." Clutched in his hand was a bag of lemons he'd searched through three markets for. "You know, I'm not sure if it's because of their proximity to the lab, but the first two stores I went to were sold out."

Pushing by the twosome, Catherine made a beeline for the locker room. "I'm gonna go check on…" her voice trailed off as she rounded the corner, leaving a disgruntled Grissom with a bag full of lemons and only half of his team.

"Okay… fill me in on last night…" He turned to Warrick and Greg. "I'll catch up with them later."

* * *

Nick dropped onto the bench next to the young woman occupying it. Draping his arm over her shoulder, he tugged her to him and grinned when she rested her head on his shoulder and moaned. "My sister, Mel, was violently ill for the whole time she was pregnant. Apparently, she was allergic to her hormones or something."

"God…" was all the slim brunette could manage to get out.

A chuckle rose from his chest. "Yeah, well I'm sure he had something to do with it."

"Then he's not a nice guy, because I have never felt so crappy in all my life." Another moan escaped the young woman as she leaned a little heavier on the man next to her.

"It's just your body adjusting to everything. The hormones… more demands on it…"

"Tell me I didn't just hear what I think I did." Catherine Willows stood at the end of the row of lockers eyes wide and hands on her hips. The two people she was looking at now stared back at her sporting a similarly shocked gaze.

Nick cast a terrified glance at Sara, who'd stiffened and was now sitting up stalk straight. "Cath…" He uttered.

"Uh uh…" She shook her head, and kicked the door shut behind her. "Don't Cath me... Out with it. Did I hear right?"

Nick cast a glance at Sara. "That depends on what you heard."

"I am on no mood to be toyed with." The blonde glared at the two CSIs.

"You heard correctly." It was said with a sigh. Sara slumped and leaned her head on Nick's shoulder again, her eyes suddenly studying the bumps on the cement floor. Warmth from the man next to her seeped through her the material of her thin blue top and for a moment she felt almost human. It was nice, for once, not having to deal with it all alone.

Blue and brown eyes exchanged sullen glances, before the older woman moved to crouch front of Sara. One well manicured hand slipped under the slim brunette's chin, and with a nudge Catherine had forced the pale brunette look at her. "How bad is it?"

"Bad…" It was uttered almost piteously, and drew a smile from the blonde.

"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you…" She shook her head and squeezed the younger woman's hand. "It's just… I remember… I have sooo been there. And well most of the time you seem so unflappable."

"I'm a wimp when I'm sick, okay?"

Even Nick laughed at that.

"I think we all are." Cath agreed. "I still call my mom when I'm under the weather. Hell, I call her for just about everything."

That had Sara tossing out a small smile too. Deep down inside she wished that it was something she could do as well. _Not fucking likely_, she reminded herself bitterly, since she and her mother hadn't really communicated in years.

"Have you tried crackers or bread? It'll help settle your stomach a little. The nausea is worse when you haven't eaten." The blonde woman offered, and stood up.

"I was feeling okay until I got here." There was almost a whine in her voice as straightened herself up, and smoothed the fitted top down over the flat plane of her abdomen. There was still no telltale sign of the small obtrusive life form it was harboring. It was far too early, merely a few spit cells… yet… There was no way she would be able to hide it for long. At some point she would have to make a decision about her future, and no matter what her choice, she knew it was going to be extremely painful…

"Well, I danced until I was six months – that's when I really began to show. But those first few months were brutal. I would do a number and then run backstage and eat an entire package of Saltine's." Her bright blue eyes locked with Sara's chocolate ones, and she grinned. "You'll get through it."

"Not if I keep feeling this sick." Sara shook her head. "I can barely work."

"Yeah, about that… maybe you should take some time off." Catherine offered.

Sara shook her head. "I can't Catherine. I have bills, rent…" In truth, she did have a sizeable savings. Being single and living simply had afforded her that, but if she was going to have a baby… God… her mind stopped. She already knew she didn't have the heart to kill something that in her eyes was alive. Her hand moved to her stomach again.

Well… one decision made…

She was going to need her money. She would need a bigger place, probably not in Vegas, a sitter, baby furniture, food, clothes, it was all seriously overwhelming, but above it all she knew one thing. She needed to work.

"Well shouldn't you be able to help her out, Nick?" The older woman glared at the younger man.

Puzzled looks passed between the two sitting on the bench, and a moment later the Texan's face turned beet red. "Uh... oh…" He suddenly nodded in agreement. "Of course." He slipped his arm around Sara and grinned at her.

"Wait… No…" Sara stared at him like he'd eaten a live cockroach and tried to pull away.

Nick's grip tightened. "Look Cath's right. This is my responsibility, too." He couldn't help but smile at the woman sitting next to him. "We'll get through this. Together…" He added.

Sara shook her head adamantly, unwilling to play along. She was about to absolve him of any responsibility when Nick squeezed her arm. She stopped and stared at him a moment, before responding. Then she let out a beleaguered sigh. "I need to work. I'll go mad if I have to stay home. So that's not an option."

"Okay. Then maybe you should tell Grissom." The blonde woman leaned up against her locker, and began to pick imaginary lint of her red sweater.

"That's also not an option." Sara quickly put in.

"Why not? It's not like he can fire you for sleeping with a coworker when he's banging the lab bitch." Catherine's words were so venomous that both Sara's and Nick's mouth dropped open. "Don't look at me that way. You may not have said it out loud, but I know both of you've thought it."

A tight grin played across Sara's lips, despite the waves of nausea rolling through her.

"Look can we just keep it to ourselves for a little while?" It was Nick this time, leaning in he placed a chaste kiss on Sara's temple. "We just need some time with this."

"Well Grissom's gonna notice something if she's got a perpetual state of stomach flu. Plus I have a few concerns about the other thing."

The three exchanged glances.

"Yesterday." Catherine explained. "The person who took the stuff, walked right by Nick's to take yours." She leveled Sara with a serious gaze. "Maybe it's because we're women… maybe it's because a pissed off some chauvinist cop somewhere along the way, or rousted a guy with a skewed hatred for females, I don't know. But whoever it is has it in for me and you; none of the guys. And to know which evidence was bagged by whom - and for that matter - where we are at any given time, the person has to be watching, nearby, even working with us."

Nick looked gravely at the woman he was holding. "We need to stick together on this." He added.

"I can look out for myself. I've been doing it for a few months now, but because of this." She nodded towards the younger woman's belly, at the same time drawing Sara's attention downward. "You need to watch your back, and you have to agree to work with either me or Nick for the next while, if you want me to keep your secret."

"How are we going to manage that?" Sara closed her eyes. She was angry. Not at Catherine or Nick, but rather the circumstance. She rapidly felt her independence slipping from her grasp.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Just eat something if you can, and I'll go grab the assignment sheets."

"Cath, you don't think this person is dangerous do you?" Nick stared after the blonde woman as she passed through the doorway into the hall.

"I've done my best to shut them down. I've become meticulous with everything I handle. The result has been one popped tire, and a rock through my front window." She grimaced. "Better safe than sorry." A moment later she was gone.

The two friends stared at each other as her words sank in. Trying to make light of it, Nick was the first to speak. "Well Darlin' I guess it's just you and me."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Why did you do that?"

"What?" The Texan cast an innocent look her way.

"It's not funny."

"Look. If someone finds out you're…" He didn't want to say the word out loud in the locker room. They'd already been caught once. "Then won't it be easier to let everyone think that it's mine? There'll be fewer questions that way." He stared almost shyly at the floor for and then brought his eyes up to meet hers hoping she would agree. When she remained silent, he added. "They'll just figure we were going at it like bunnies and that I got you..." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Knocked up."

"I hate that phrase." The slim brunette warned and then suddenly punched him in the chest.

"Ow…" A false frown lit the man's face, as his free hand moved to cover the area she'd hit. "I can see who's going to be the abuser in this relationship."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Sara laughed outright, and then sobered. "I can't ask you to do this. It's not right."

"What, helping to make things a little easier for you isn't right? Why's that, buttercup?" Removing his arm from around her shoulder he stood up and moved to his locker. "The way I see it, you could use a little TLC. And I'm certain that if I were in the same position – not…" He pointed to her tummy. "But you know, in need of a little support, I'm sure you'd be there for me. So let me do the same for you." He rummaged through the gym bag he'd brought to work that morning, and pulled out a box of animal cookies. "These'll help." He passed them to her, as she rose to her feet.

Feeling a little better, the brunette grabbed a bottle of water from her locker, offered it to Nick and took one for herself. The door let out a soft clang as Sara slammed it shut, and shoved her own bottle under her arm. "Organic, spelt animal cookies…" She read the label on the box, and then liberating an elephant from the interior plastic wrap she popped it into her mouth. "Thanks, mom…" She mumbled facetiously around a mouth full of cookie and headed towards the exit.

"Hey, that's lover boy, or stud to you." He chuckled and followed her out the door.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer chapter 1_

_AN… _

_Thanks so much for reading. I love you all. Enjoy…NO beta yet again… Forgive me if you get three notices of this chapter I'm sorry I had to export it to clean it up a little, and of course once I repost it, you get another notification. Then I noticed there was a problem with the system and deleted the chapter and reposted yet again... Oh woe is me!_

_**Chapter 6**_

"_I know it's unexpected. And I know we really don't know each other, but this is the situation. And I need to know what you want to do?"_

_The young woman stared at him, he hand placed protectively over her stomach. She was inordinately attractive. Slim, well dressed, clear faced with dancing green eyes and red hair. Yet Grissom couldn't remember anything beyond saying hello to her at a closing party during the American Forensics Association conference less than a month previously. She was new to the lab, had been hired to work swing, and had approached him during dinner after having recognized him. The sad thing of it was, is that until the moment she'd entered his office, he hadn't even remembered meeting her. Furthermore, after she told him the reason for his visit he wished he never had._

_His mouth was dry as the Nevada desert, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry." It felt as though all of the blood had drained from his body. "You must have made a mistake…" _

"_No mistake Gilbert." She smiled dangerously, walked up to him and casually perched herself on the side of his desk. A clear blue pregnancy test dangled from her fingers inside of a small baggie. "Though I have to admit, I'm more than a little hurt by the fact that you don't remember." She continued to smirk, her cheeks becoming a flaming red as she leaned in. "You certainly remembered my name that night. Told me it would be etched into your brain forever since I was the best you'd ever had."_

_Those were not his words. He was sure of it. In his heart he knew he would never say anything like that. He searched his memory of the night in question and drew a blank. It was very possible that he'd had too much to drink. He'd been in one hell of a state. Sitting around the table listening to his fellow scientists talk about their personal lives, wives, families, girlfriends; it had been almost excruciating, especially after the recent round of cases he'd dealt with, Debbie Marlin in particular but that really was only the pinnacle of a bad few month. He did remember one thing though; Sara had been on his mind the entire time. _

_Initially he'd wanted to invite her to attend the conference with him, in hopes of shoring up their friendship, and thinking that maybe away from the lab he might find the courage to tell her what he'd been wanting to for some time. In the end he'd shied away and spent the entire weekend regretting it._

_As best as he could remember, he'd had a few glasses of cognac, and at least one screw driver. The rest of the night faded into a blur. He wasn't a drinker by any means so, getting drunk wasn't difficult for him at all. Three glasses in and he was pretty far gone. A fourth might have found him flirting, while a fifth… well speculation was for naught since he really couldn't be sure of anything. _

_What he did know was that he would never just pick up someone and sleep with them. It simply wasn't his nature. Yet in front of him stood a very attractive younger woman telling him he had done just that. But not only had he slept with her but he had apparently gotten her pregnant too._

_It was all too unbelievable._

_He did remember waking up alone the next morning with a dry mouth and a pounding head ache._

_He didn't believe her. _

_She had to be lying._

_But to what end?_

_She was achingly young, beautiful by modern standards and in all likelihood could have had any man she wanted, so why would she choose to pretend to be pregnant by a stodgy slightly overweight entomologist who was almost twice her age?_

_Then there was the test… The one still dangling from her fingers._

"_We can have a DNA test done once the baby's born." She informed him massaging the flat plane of her belly. "I don't want to risk an amnio."_

_He shook his head in disbelief. Just when everything was finally on track for him... _

_The day he'd returned to LV from Oregon, he'd put the battle between his head and heart to rest and had gone from the airport directly to Sara Sidle's door. There he'd waited… for a full three hours, actually. _

_Turns out she'd stayed to put in some overtime on a case. _

_He had been more than tempted to go home as the minutes stretched into hours, but he knew that if he didn't follow through on his decision that day, he never would. So he waited, and waited, and waited. Then he'd fallen asleep in the hallway, sitting up with his back against the door and his head against her door frame. _

_She'd nudged him awake with her toe, and laughed outright when he snorted and startled himself back to full consciousness. When he'd opened his eyes, there were two dark and curious ones staring at him, and there was also the incredibly nasty scent of rotten food._

_She'd been dumpster diving._

"_I need a shower…" was all the young woman said, as he shuffled aside to let her into her own apartment, and watched as she disappeared into the bathroom._

_He'd been breathless when she'd emerged a few minutes later, dressed in a simple navy robe, with the scent of lilac and soap clinging to her. Her dark hair was damp and fell in ringlets about her face, and she grinned at him, or maybe the stunned look he'd had on his face. Regardless of the reason for her smile, the only thing he could focus on at that moment, was how incredibly stupid he'd been for the previous six years. The reality suddenly slammed into him with all the force of a Mack truck and he'd been helpless to stop it._

_  
"So what can I do for you?" Her words were tempered, weighted with a history of disappointment and pain. She'd known his penchant for flight when it came to emotional situations of any kind, and she also knew that he never came to visit, so whatever had led him to her door on that particular morning had to be important. The confession she'd heard several weeks earlier had pretty much put to bed any hope she had of there ever being anything between them, so she nervously, she tightened her robe around her a little more and stood barefoot in the middle of her living room waiting for him to state the reason for his being there._

_She was shocked by his next action. Without a word he'd moved forward caressed her face and when she didn't flinch or flee, he leaned in and kissed her._

_Alicia cleared her throat effectively bringing Gil Grissom out of his head. He stared up at the still dangling baggy. "I need some time with this. I honestly don't know what to do."_

"_Well then let me give you something to think about." The slim redhead dropped the bag onto the desk in front of him. "My mother didn't raise a tramp. And I'm old school Dr. Grissom." She emphasized his name and leaned it. "I have no desire to be a single mother, so having this child without the father there to help me isn't going to happen. I was raised with a belief in family and the full…" she emphasized the word and leaned in a little closer giving him a stronger whiff of her cloyingly sweet perfume. "Participation in from both parents in a child's life..." Moving away she stood up and walked towards the closed office door. "Adoption is not an option, but I'm not against abortion. You tell me you want it dead I'll do it." She opened the door to face a surprised Sara Sidle. She grinned at the brunette and pushed past her. "Just let me know soon."_

Searching through his desk Grissom pulled out the baggy with the pregnancy test, heaved an anguished sigh and then angrily dropped it back in before grabbing the item he had been looking for. He stared at it a moment, wondering if he was making the right decision, and then shoved it in his pocket.

The hallway was relatively empty, as he made his way down it, his eyes tracing a liberal path into most of the rooms he passed. Hodges was on loan to day shift for two days as their resident trace girl was out with the flu and Ecklie claimed he needed him more on days. Wendy was home with the very same flu as the two were friends and one had kindly passed it on to the other. Bottom line they were short staffed, so he was grateful for the slow night. On his way past the breakroom reached over and picked up the purple travel mug sitting on a cart outside.

He'd had a quick talk with Catherine that amounted to the blonde filling him in on previous evening's cases and assignments. At the woman's suggestion he'd assigned Nick and Sara to finish up on the John Doe case. Because it was a slow night, and because Warrick was already out with Alicia and Greg, he'd taken her suggestion that she give them a hand.

Walking into the DNA lab he placed the cup at the end of the desk and waited for the young woman hunched over a selection of test tubes to look up. When she didn't, he moved a little closer and prodded the cup in her direction. "The cup probably kept it warm." He stated, when she didn't respond he continued. "How are you feeling?"

This did draw an answer from her, but it was a generic response, as expected.

"Fine." Her attention still focused on the beakers in front of her, she did her best not to respond to heat of his presence. Instead, she grabbed a swab and clipped the end off of it, dropping it into the test tube.

"Okay…" he reached his hand into his pocket and fingered the item in there, easing his nerves a little. "How are you doing?"

She stopped and shook her head slightly. "Isn't that the same question?"

"No." Grissom smirked at her.

Sara rolled her eyes, and then cast a glance at the man beside her. It made her heart ache so she dropped her eyes back to the table in front of her. "If I tell you will you go away?"

Her voice was far from venomous, more resigned and pain filled than angry and it was this which cut him to the bone more than her actual words. "Maybe."

This time she looked at him and held his gaze. "Why are you doing this to me?" She pursed her lips and fought back the tears that were coming far too easily the past few days. "It's hard enough being here and having to deal with this, all of it… Just please don't act like you care."

He stepped a little closer. "I do care, you know that." He cast a glance over his shoulder and took her hand in his and squeezed a small velvet bag into her palm. "No matter what happens that's the one thing will never change."

She stared down at the small item he'd given her and was about to comment when Nick walked in the room. She took the item and quickly stuffed it back into his lab coat pocket. The she smiled brightly at the man who'd just entered. "Any good news?"

"I dropped the bullet casing off with Bobby. It'll be a few hours, apparently he's backlogged." He informed the twosome and then moved to stand beside Sara, absently dropping his hand onto the small of her back. "You feeling better?"

The slim brunette nodded even though it wasn't entirely the truth. The nausea was still there floating in the background like a stalker. But she wasn't nearly as bad as she'd been earlier.

"You know, if you have the stomach flu, you have more than enough overtime saved up to take a few days off." Grissom reminded her, his eyes glued to the other man's hand, as it gently massaged the younger woman's back. It was a wholly intimate action that caused a wave of jealousy to wash over the entomologist.

She couldn't have moved on so quickly… Could she?

"I'm okay. It may only have been something I ate. I am feeling better." Her gaze drifted between the two men. "Really." She assured them both. Though, one of them knew it was a bold-faced lie.

"I did get something on the fingerprint, but it's not very probative. It belongs to a Ruth Gamine. She's a local hooker with a penchant for blow, heroin, and crack. Not surprising that her print was found on the window, Brass tells me that the property often doubles as a crack house. They'll go in clear the place out. It will sit empty for a week or two and then slowly start to fill up again." Nick dropped the file folder and photo of Ruth in front of Sara.

"But it was on the outside of the window, not inside…" Sara pointed out.

"But a print on glass can last a number of days." Grissom threw in.

"Last night it rained…There was an overhang that may have protected it, but I have a feeling it was fresh. If she's not a suspect then maybe she's a witness." Finding it hard to look at Grissom, the slim brunette spoke mostly to Nick.

"Well, no matter, Brass is bringing her in. We'll find out soon enough." He grinned. "You up for a visit with Jimbo?"

Sara took the test tube she'd been prepping and put it in the machine to cook. "Let's go partner…" She flashed grinned, grabbed her cup off the table and followed Nick out of the room, shooting a quick "thank you" at Grissom as she passed by.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

Lordy these guys have a mind of their own. Not beta'd. This one's a little shorter. Wanted to get it out to you all. Thanks for the reviews you guys are great.

Nothing bad here so the rating is the same.

**Chapter 7**

Sara sniffed her soup and wrinkled her nose. Hormones sure as hell messed with the senses, she determined, as dropped her spoon back onto the lip of the bowl, and pushed it to the side.

They were seated at Maggie's, a diner style restaurant located a block from the lab. Decorated with red and white pleather couches circa 1960, and worn linoleum type tables that cleverly matched the black and white checkered floors, the place looked every bit like the greasy spoon it was. But the single thing that attracted the twosome sitting at the table indulging in a 3am lunch, wasn't the kitsch neon signs, or the colorful knickknacks that decorated the place, but rather that fact that the food was homemade, fresh and delicious even to the most discriminating of taste buds.

Normally…

"I know she did it." Nick sat across from her; a grimace on his face. "We need something to tie her to the murder." He took a liberal gulp of his coffee, and then chased it down with a bite of his steak.

"There's still the shoe print. If we can match it to her we can place her at the scene. " The slim brunette picked up the spoon and this time stirred the fowl smelling concoction.

"That's circumstantial. She may have been there but there's no proof that she killed him. She could just be afraid, or protecting someone." Texan reached across the small table and stilled her hand with a pat. "Stop playing with your food and eat it."

"I'm not hungry." She moaned and dropped the spoon yet again. "I think the soup was a bad idea."

"I coulda told you that. It's split pea, Sunshine, the color of it alone makes me ill, and I'm not the one sporting a nine month long case of the stomach flu." He stared at her momentarily and then slid the small plate with his dinner roll on it towards her. "Have this it will fill you up without making matters worse."

Sara glared at him almost mournfully and then broke off a piece. Thankfully, she'd managed to get through the interview with little fanfare. It had been short, concise and ended almost before it began, when the suspect had asked for counsel. The "Thanks…" She threw his way was muttered and truth be told didn't sound very thankful.

"You feeling a little better?" Nick scrubbed a hand across his chin, his fingers raking over slight stubble that had grown there over the previous 24 hours. He'd slept in, run short on time, and had rushed to pick her up. Shaving had not been a priority. "You seem to be a little perkier."

The young woman cast a glance at him. Her eyes said it all… she was unimpressed with his powers of observation. "Truth?"

"Yeah."

"I feel like shit." She liberated another piece of bread for the bun and popped it into her mouth.

His eyes darkened at the admission. "Maybe you should go see someone. An OB or something. I'm sure there are medications that can help."

She shook her head, trembling fingers moving through her hair to shift it behind one ear. "I don't want to take anything, Nick. It might hurt the baby."

The Texan couldn't help but smile at this. "That's good." There was a hint of triumph in his voice.

Sara glowered. "Don't."

"So you've made up your mind." He continued and leaned in. "Buttercup, I was way ahead of you." His voice dropped. "I knew you could no more kill that baby you're carrying, than you could one of the team."

She looked at him darkly and groaned. "Where you're concerned that might not be a theory you want to test right now. My hormones are touchy and they're shifting towards pissed off."

Nick ignored her threat, and reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "We'll all be here to help, Sara."

The slim brunette bit her lip. "That's just it Nick, after this baby is born…" She couldn't believe she was talking about it as a reality, as it had seemed like a strange dream from the moment she found out. "I won't be able to stay in Vegas." She shook her head. "Not with Grissom here…"

He seemed shocked at this. It was the last thing he thought she should do. "You can't leave. We're you're family." She was going to need the help and even thought they'd never really discussed it, he had a feeling Sara Sidle was on her own and had been for a long time.

Sara grinned shyly, and nodded her head. "I know." It had been hard to accept the intimacy of her lab family for a very long time because she was so used to being on her own, but the comfort that came from knowing that there was someone there to watch your back and care if something happened, had sunk into her bones over the years; that's why leaving would be so incredibly painful. "But there will be no way around it. Gil's occasionally oblivious, but he's not stupid. He'll figure it out." Her voice hitched so she looked away and popped another piece of the roll in her mouth.

"That's the first time I've ever heard you refer to him as Gil." Nick took a swig of his coffee and thunked the cup back on the table, looking a little like he'd bitten into an onion.

"Sorry…"

"No you don't have to apologize…" He cut off a thin slice of his steak, scooped some mashed potatoes on top and popped it into his mouth. "It's just odd. You know, to picture you two together. And now him, with…" He caught himself before he fully put the thought out there, and then chewed a moment while his head redirected the conversation. "He doesn't have to know Sara. We can play it the way we did with Cath."

"Nick, honestly, I can't ask you to do something like that." One slim finger began drawing anxious circles on the table, and she watched her own movements absently. "I mean, it's one thing to pull that with Catherine for a short time, but to give it up to the rest of the group would really cramp your style." She smiled sadly at him. "You know that long list of girls you have tagging behind you all the time – Monique, the stewardess, Charisse, the bartender, Anna, the dancer - they would go into mourning. And the team would…" She sighed. "I dunno… they would look at both of us differently."

"First off, the rest of the guys will look at us no differently than they look at the Gris… and Alicia… Though, I don't think we would seem as odd as that pairing." A flush painted the handsome Texan's face. "And the girls… well they're fun, but you know as well as I do this job is a lot like police work, women think it's exciting until they see the hours we keep, and smell us when we walk through the door. I haven't had a serious relationship in years. One of the perks of the job I suppose, but you wouldn't be stepping on anyone's toes." He leaned in shoving the remainder of his dinner to the side. "We could do this – not forever but for a while. Play it out. Pretend we're involved, and then maybe let it fall apart a little later. Gris would never suspect and you could stay here. Take a little time off, and then come back to work. Being a single mom with friends around to help is a lot easier, Sar."

She clasped her hands to her face and gave her head a shake. She was torn, between accepting his offer which she knew outright was a bad idea, and putting a stop to the snowball before it started rolling. "I don't like lying to our friends."

The waitress came by then and with a smile and a wink in the Texan's direction, dropped the check on the table. He snatched it from Sara's hand before she had a chance to look at it and waved it at her. "We don't have to lie to our friends. You and Gris didn't. You just didn't say anything. We can take a page from your book and let them draw their own conclusions. We just have to be a little more overt. You know they won't be able to resist."

"I don't think Gris, would buy - us." She eyed the man across from her with a momentary scowl.

Pulling his wallet out of his pocket Nick grabbed two twenties and dropped them on the table. "You're wrong Sar. You didn't see his face today in DNA. I'm still not sure what the deal is, but he wasn't too happy with me even touching you, Sweetpea. I take it that has something to do with the - _his part of the story_ – that you tell me I'm missing out on?"

Sara rolled her eyes, and reached for the check as made to shove it in his wallet. "You were imagining things." She informed him, stood up and seized the piece of paper. "I get this." She announced grabbing her purse and heading for the cash.

Capturing the two twenties off the table, Nick Stokes was hot on her heels. He pulled up behind her as she passed the cashier her own pair of twenties.

"Let me." He reached over and passed his money to the woman.

Confused, the girl, whose name tag read Talia, stared at the two strangers in front of her.

Nick smiled broadly, shoved the money at her and laid on the Texas charm. "She won't let me be a gentleman, Sunshine but you will, right?"

With that Talia took the money from his hand and smiled bashfully at him.

Turning his head to grin in victory at the woman beside him Nick caught a flash of red behind them – a second later he leaned in and whispered in Sara's ear. "Do you trust me?"

Still trying to stare down the young woman behind the cash, the slim brunette nodded in confusion and was immediately blown away when her dinner companion leaned in and taking her into his arms, he captured her mouth with his.

It was far from a friendly kiss, instead bordering heavily on pornographic. She was about to punch him when she heard a voice from behind her that made her blood freeze.

"Well, well. Aren't you two cute?" Alicia stood behind them a happy grin extending across her face. She turned her head to the man she'd literally dragged into the restaurant, and leaned into him, clutching his arm. "Right Gilbert?"

Pulling away, Nick plastered and embarrassed look on his face to match the genuine one Sara was sporting. "Uh Hi…" He smiled and turned to the cashier. "Keep the change." With that he threaded his fingers through the tall brunette's and led her out of the restaurant. "We'll catch you back at the lab." He yelled over his shoulder.

Speechless, Sara followed close behind him, trying to forget the look of hurt her former lover was sporting. The minute she was outside the restaurant she turned on her coworker and punched him in the chest. "What the hell happened to _a little more overt_? Nick that was outright ADVERTISING!"

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

AN

Happy Halloween! Not beta'd. Nothing horrible. Let me know what you think. It inspires me to write.

It really is GSR… with a twist. Forgive me for any other glaring errors.

Enjoy

**Chapter 8**

Gil Grissom made his way into ballistics so silently that when he leaned over Bobby's shoulder, the soft spoken southerner almost dropped the gun he was holding.

"Je-sus…" The ballistics' specialist muttered, dropping the firearm back onto the table and shaking off the moment of hysteria that had passed over him. After he'd recouped some of his cool, he plastered a smile on his face and cast a look in his supervisor's direction. "Grissom, what can I do for you?"

"Alicia said you got a match on the Freedman case from two days ago."

"That I did…" Shifting himself off of his stool the transplanted Georgia U. Graduate made his way over to a stack of files and after shifting a few of them came back and passed his boss the folder triumphantly. "I thought it was Alicia and Greg's case?"

"Greg's on something else now, so I'm going to run it." He was somewhat grateful for that fact as well. Not that he was overjoyed to be working with his fiancé – a title he was still trying to get used to - but rather he was happy to see the Catherine had gotten over whatever it was that had had her on a rampage for the previous week. This way he was freed up to do something other than run interference. Not that working with his betrothed was any picnic, but it beat working with the snarling blonde, if only marginally.

"Ah... Okay… The gun was used in a homicide up in Jersey. Bikers… Hells Angels. Not registered, of course, but the cop who contacted me when I tagged it said it had some connection to the gang and a shootout that went down 8 months ago."

"Good work." Grissom shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and flipped through the notes.

"Sorry it took so long. I ran the standard state and then national search, but apparently the eastern part of the country has been down for the last 48 hours – some computer bug. The fax has been spitting out paper all night, since they got it back up and running. Got a few matches. One on that domestic, Warrick was working on and something for Sara and Nick on that homeless DB. All of it from outta state…" He took a gulp of the flat can of coke that was stored under his desk, and grimaced at its' syrupy sweetness before plunking it back. "The quality of tourists visiting our fair city seems to be on the down slide."

"I'll say." Grissom frowned and scanned the page in front of him. Just what they needed in Vegas, Bikers... Distracted he turned to leave.

"Boss, if you see Sara or Nick around will you let them know I have a match. Nick said he wanted the results ASAP."

The entomologist stopped, a replay of the earlier incident in the restaurant, trekking though his head. The image the two locked in a kiss, made his chest hurt. Though the reason for this was something he didn't want to examine too closely. He was doing the right thing, he reminded himself. During any one of his more lucid moments, he knew this, and would acknowledge it, but where Sara Sidle was concerned those moments were few, and the distance between them was growing immeasurably. In his head he knew he had to leave her alone, especially after realizing how quickly she had moved on. But that didn't stop his heart from making him turn back and hold his hand out. "Give it to me. I'll find them."

Anything, just to spend a single moment alone with her…

If the erstwhile scientist had ever been one to swear, he would have admitted to himself right there and then, that he was definitely fucked.

How do you take your heart back from someone who you'd given it to completely?

He shook his head. Telling himself how incredibly pathetic it was, especially since he was the one who'd made all the wrong choices where their relationship was concerned.

Yup, he was fucked, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"Goddamn it." Sara Sidle was searching frantically through the DNA lab, a large white box sitting open on the counter beside her.

On his way between trace, and ballistics Nick had heard he exclamation and hoped to hell he wouldn't find her with her face in a sink or bucket of some sort. The Texan breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted her frenetically going through an evidence box in DNA. Unfortunately, his relief was short lived. "What's up, Sugarbritches?"

Sara glowered at the term of endearment, but shook it off. "I can't find the blood sample or the section I was running." Her normally gentle brown eyes were fiery as she slammed her hand on the table in front of her.

"You're sure?" Nick dipped his hand in and started to remove the items from the box. "The baggies are pretty small, easy to lose them in with all this other stuff."

Sara stopped him with a palm on his arm. "I'm sure. I've been through this box twice, and the sequencer was running with my samples in it when we left. You saw me put them there."

Nick cast a glance over at the machine in the corner. It was sitting open and empty. "Maybe someone took them out to run their own?"

"We weren't gone long enough for the sample to be thoroughly run. By my estimation it would still have another hour or so. And if by some miracle they did get finished then why didn't whoever took it out, leave the results along with the setup here? Not to mention very few people here know how to run the machine. It would have to have been Grissom, me or Greg. Do you know how to run it? Does Catherine or Warrick?"

Nick shook his head. "Nah I have no idea… And I don't think Cath or Warrick can either. You know, I get Grissom and Greg, but where did you learn how to use the sequencer?"

"I talked Greg into teaching me one day. Anyway, he's out in the field and I doubt Gris would have touched it." Long slim fingers moved to massage her head. "Besides the whole thing doesn't wash, Nick, even if someone removed the stuff from here, that doesn't explain the missing samples from the box." She threw her eyes up to the ceiling, berating herself mentally. She voiced her thoughts out loud. "How could I have been so stupid?"

"What missing samples?"

The twosome turned to see their supervisor standing in the doorway.

"Uh…" Sara cast a glance at Nick and decided that in this case honesty was the best policy. "The blood sample I put into the sequencer has disappeared." The slim brunette pursed her lips, and stared at her hands. "Along with the original samples I placed in the evidence locker."

"I wonder if Cath took them. It's possible." Nick's dark eyes traced a path between his boss and Sara. "I haven't seen her since around since one o'clock. Maybe she's got a lead…"

"She's in workroom 12, running something through the solemate database. She's been there almost since the beginning of shift." Grissom informed him. "Why don't you go find out if she has the evidence?"

The younger man glanced uncertainly at the woman in front of him. He didn't want to leave her alone with Grissom, yet the man was his boss and he'd just given him a direct order.

Sara smiled tentatively at her partner and nodded slightly.

"I'll be right back." He muttered, turned to leave but stopped when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Ballistics results from Bobby." The nightshift supervisor held out the folder, and waited for the CSI to leave before closing the door after him. Then turning to the only other occupant in the room, blue eyes met brown and locked for a moment before both being averted uncomfortably. "Go over it with me."

"There's nothing to tell. That you don't already know."

"Humor me."

"Okay…I put the sample in the sequencer. You were here. You saw me. Then Nick and I left for the interrogation. I took the samples with me and put them in the evidence locker on my way out of the building. Nick saw me do that." She held her hands out at the side. "I came back, the sequencer was empty. I didn't panic, figured the stuff would turn up, but even if it didn't I still had the other samples. But when I went to get the box, the samples were gone."

Grissom took his glasses off and massaged his eyes in an attempt to chase away the migraine that was threatening to level him. "You're sure you put them in the right box. There are at least seven other evidence boxes in there."

"I'm certain. It was the only one on the shelf, but I can go check the other boxes." She spun around and headed for the door, but Grissom caught her hand before she reached it.

"Can we talk?" His thumb gently stoked the flesh there, his touch causing the barely heeled wound in her heart to split open again.

She fought to steady her voice. "Is it about work?"

He shook his head, a slow, "No…," falling from his lips.

"Then we shouldn't." She replied, her dark orbs settling on the hallway on the other side of the door. Her hormones being what they were, she knew that if she looked at him the tears would come.

"Sara." He gripped her harder as she tried to pull away.

"Look," she cut him off. "Being here is already hard enough, please don't make it harder."

"I just want to know how you are, and you can believe that the question is coming from your boss if that makes it any easier." His azure eyes searched her face, trying to capture the emotion there.

"I'm okay… With everything." She added. The sarcastic side of her brain, had a full list of issues it wanted to spew out, about how her heart felt like it had gone through a blender twice, and how it was incredibly ironic, that she'd done the right thing and let go of their relationship, only to find herself facing a future of single parenthood, that required a lie of massive proportions to cover up. Then there was the reality of the past few days and how she'd found herself wishing over the previous twenty-four, that Gil Grissom had just a little bit of Nick Stokes in him because he really could stand to learn a little more sensitivity – something that had been bereft from her life for some time – also something that she was getting used to, albeit in a kicking and screaming kind of way. The silence between them was suddenly deafening and she could sense him studying her. "On the digestive end, I'm still a little queasy but, honestly, I'm feeling better, Okay?" she continued to look away. "It's just the flu. A few days and I'll be over it."

She really hated lying to him, and was almost ready to crumble under the heat of his gaze when he gave her palm a squeeze and let her go.

His hand slipped into his pocket, and once again he pulled out the small velvet box. "I want you to take this. I bought it for you before everything happened. It belongs to you."

The slim brunette shoved her hands in her pocket and shook her head. "Give it to Alicia." She said sadly and headed for the door. "I'm going to go and check the other boxes in the evidence cage."

Catherine Willows was certain her eyes were going to explode. She'd been staring at the computer screen for the better part of four-and-a-half hours. It was excruciatingly boring and hard on the back, but it was a job that had to be done. That's why when Nick rolled in looking anything but chipper she was grateful for the interruption despite the fact that he was obviously hefting some bad news.

"Hey Cath... Did you take the blood evidence from our John Doe?"

And there it was…

The blonde woman, spun herself around to face the man behind her, and shook her head gravely. "No, I take it, it's missing?"

Nick nodded back his face equally as grim. "Looks like it. Sara's checked everywhere. Whoever took it, took the samples she was running too. She left them brewing to go over to PD with me. Brass had brought in a potential suspect, when we came back they were gone."

The attractive blonde rubbed at her eyes. "Did she leave the evidence in the DNA lab?"

"No. She returned them to the evidence locker. I watched her."

"Does anyone else know?" Climbing to her feet, the older woman straightened her pale blue top and grabbed the baggy that was sitting beside the keyboard. Tucking it into her pocket she grabbed a pen from the table top, wrote down the catalogue number she was looking at on a post it, and then with the press of a button shut the machine down.

"Gris. He walked in while we were talking about it."

"That's just great." She heaved a heavy sigh and moved past the tall Texan, and out into the hallway. "You need to go back to the scene. It hasn't been released yet so you should be okay. Get another sample." She drew a key out of her pocket. "Give this to Sara. Tell her to lock any of her evidence in here from now on."

"What's it for?" He stared curiously at the small item in his hand.

"The tall black file cabinet in the corner of my office." With that she grabbed him by the upper arm and led him down the hallway. "It's what I've had to resort to."

"Thanks." He pocketed the key, and then checked his watch. Three more hours until shift was over.

"How did the interview go?"

"She lawyered up. But we did get a ballistic match." He held the file out to her. "Drug related shooting in Boston. I'm going to check and see if our suspect was out of town during that time."

"Well that's something, I suppose."

"Not much for now, but it'll come together."

"Yeah, if no more of the evidence goes missing." Catherine pointed out, as she turned into her office. Indicating the file cabinet in the corner, she reached into her pocket, grabbed a second key and walked over to it. "She can use the bottom two drawers. My stuff is on the top."

"Okay, I'll tell her." Turning to leave he made it as far as the door before the woman spoke again.

"How's she feeling?" Blue eyes settled on the man in front of her as he turned around.

"Better I think." He grinned.

"Don't take her back out to the scene. I know she'd rather die than admit it, but she needs to take it easy." She dropped the her baggy into the top drawer and slammed it closed, the loud clank punctuating her comment.

"Don't worry I won't." He'd been thinking the same thing. With a wave of his hand he made to go. "Thanks again, Cath."

"Just remember, you owe…" She called out as he took off down the hallway.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

You all are amazing readers, and greatly encouraging. This is a horrid little chapter for reasons that will become clear.

Not beta'd, not in need of a higher rating. It is what it is.

**

* * *

**

**Tree 9**

The bench was cool through her thin jeans and in some strange way it was comforting, the solidness of it's' presence making her current state seem real.

From the moment she'd stared at the results, she'd felt as though she were drifting through a dream. And with her ovarian secretions solidly in control of both her body and emotions, she'd been violently volleying between the desire to wake up, and wishing that she could stay a sleep and live it forever.

As much as she was terrified of facing the future alone with a small being who was totally dependent on her, she also harbored a secret pleasure; that of knowing that she and Grissom's short lived relationship and their last night of lovemaking had given her a small part of him, forever.

It was oddly cathartic and horrifying.

She leaned over and placed her head solidly between her knees silently cursing her choice of an early morning bagel.

The nausea was back with a vengeance, and this time she was feeling flushed to the point of dampness breaking across her brow. Absently, she reminded herself to look up all the symptomology of morning sickness. In her eyes, the term itself was a melting pot of nagging little physical issues that appeared at random intervals and had the ability to pull the carpet out from under the sufferer.

Rapidly approaching footfalls pulled her from her reverie and she forced herself to sit up just in time to see a tentative Gil Grissom turn the corner. "Sara, are you feeling okay?"

She nodded despite the churn of her stomach.

"Good, I need you with me."

A small groan escaped her, but with the distance between them, it was lost on the man in the doorway. "I'm still working the John Doe, and my evidence hasn't shown up yet." She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I was just taking a minute to recoup, and then going back to search the other half of the lab." The last thing she wanted to do was go back out into the field when her body was crying for bed, and her stomach for a toilet bowl.

"Nick's out in the field. Catherine had to leave; her daughter has an early morning appointment at the fracture clinic. Warrick and Greg are still in the field. The only one available is Alicia and this is a case I can't ask her to work."

The slim brunette studied her former lover for a moment, and was tempted to ask exactly why that was, but the last thing she wanted to do was sound bitter, petty, or jealous. Instead she tossed her purse into the locker, forced herself to her feet, grabbed her vest, and then holstered her weapon. "Let's go then." She grinned almost painfully at the man in the doorway, plucked her travel mug up off the bench and made her way past him.

She didn't meet his gaze, as she slipped out into the hallway and headed for the rear parking lot.

The drive to the scene was blessedly short, as it was off strip and only a short distance away from the lab. It was a drive that was conducted in silence, though it wasn't for lack of trying on Grissom's part.

After several half baked attempts at conversation, which turned into more of a yes and no exchange, the entomologist, both frustrated with himself, and the woman in the truck with him, let out a discouraged sigh and pulled up to the curb.

Jim Brass was already on the side walk waiting for the twosome. "Hey Sara…" He smiled at the slim brunette as she stepped from the vehicle and yanked her kit from the trunk.

She tossed a small grin his way, and tramped down the rising bile in her esophagus. "Hi Jim."

He stepped up beside her and fell in step as they moved towards the dank alleyway. Grissom moved to catch up and landed on the other side of her.

"Have you seen it?" Grissom cast a glance at his friend and stepped over a heap of festering garbage at the entrance to the lane.

"Yeah, and I wish I hadn't. The much bango burrito I had for dinner is contemplating a reappearance."

Moving past the bulk of a man asleep beside a dumpster, the graveyard supervisor scanned the pavement up ahead. The first cop on the scene had cordoned off the space a few feet ahead. He ducked under the tape as they reached it. "Who called it in?" He asked holding it up for the others to pass.

"A drunk was searching the garbage when he happened upon the half opened trash bag." The detective referred to his notepad. "A Mr. George Bush… at least that's what he's claiming his name is. And even in the state he's in - which I have to say would require a blood alcohol level that reads one hundred proof – he could still do a better job running the country."

Sara laughed at this but the smile died immediately on her face as they approached the bag. "Oh my God…" was all she managed before turning away momentarily.

"If you're going to be sick, Sara, leave now." It was an automatic response, the supervisor in him speaking before the man had time to think. Softening his words, he gripped her arm and led her aside. "If you want I can try and get Cath to come back in, or I can see if Nick is back."

Not trusting herself to speak, she shook her head and breathed deeply forcing back the tide of nausea washing over her. Then after pulling a glove from her pocket and using it to cover her nose and mouth, she turned and headed directly over to the body.

"Newborn female…" She called out. "Umbilicus still attached." It was a heartbreaking scene; a tiny infant with a perfect rosebud mouth and short strands of dark hair still tacky from birth. Sara reached out a shaking hand and stopped herself before she touched the body, negating her desire to pick the small child up and comfort it. She was truly flawless, ten perfect fingers and toes. Had it not been for the appliance cord wrapped tightly around her small neck and the blue cast to her skin, one would have thought she was simply sleeping. She swallowed back a sob before it escaped her chest, and for the first time since she'd discovered her own pregnancy, she was overcome by a fiercely protective instinct.

Grissom moved up beside her, and pulled her aside a second time. Guilt was toying with his perspective. He hadn't wanted to bring her at all. But things being what they were he knew it would be hellacious and insensitive for him to bring his fiancé to the scene. It situation was something a pregnant woman just shouldn't see. Although, Sara was sick he knew she was a trouper, so he'd willingly thrown her to the wolves knowing that, while it would be hard for her, as it would anyone, she would still handle it like a professional. "If we cover this quickly David can take her and we can work the alley." Leaving her staring after him, he reached into his bag and grabbed some containers, and a thermos of hot water. Then he began collecting the bugs, while Sara silently photographed the scene. Ten minutes into it her stamina wore out, and she dropped her camera back to the kit and beelined for the mouth of the alley, emptying the contents of her stomach as she reached the end of it.

Tears were rolling down her face by the time she turned the corner and out of sight.

Concerned that Grissom may have followed her, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, grabbed her latest and permanent companion – a bottle of Visine – and dropped some into each eye.

It was Jim Brass who was looking at her with concern when the blur cleared from her dark orbs. "You don't look so hot."

It was a statement of fact, so Sara nodded. "Damn stomach flu." She grimaced and pulled a gum out of her vest pocket.

"Ah… yeah… about that." Brass cast a look back over his shoulder and noting that the uniformed officers were nowhere near them, and Grissom was still processing the body, he turned to the young woman in front of him and smiled. "Don't take this personally, but you're full of shit. Remember I'm not Grissom. I've actually been around a woman who's – shall we say – with child?"

Shock registered on the young CSI's face, but before she could say anything the detective waved her off. "And before you try to deny it - don't." He held his hand up, and counted off his fingers. "You've been in a funk for about a week. I noticed the change immediately. I know you haven't thrown up until last night, but any time I worked with you recently, you looked like you were going to woof your cookies. You seem more tired than usual, but it's not a physical tired, more emotional – a lethargy. I have never seen Sara Sidle cry at a crime scene, and we've seen some serious shit." He popped up his fifth finger. "Plus that tea… the chamomile crap, is your constant companion these days – spells GI trouble – made an appearance around the same time the rest of the stuff did. My ex used to drink it by the crate… said it calmed her stomach. It was my fault, apparently I gave her an ulcer or heartburn or something."

Silence stood between them for a moment while he detective's words sunk in. She's was working her way towards a plausible explanation, but it was lost as she turned and spewed a few mouthfuls of bile and the scant remains of her bagel, into the ditch beside her.

Brass pursed his lips, let out a soft sigh, pulled a clean handkerchief from his black suit jacket pocket and handed it to the young woman.

Sara dabbed her mouth with shaking hands, straightened up and quirked a smile. "You get an A+ for observation," was all she said.

He shrugged. "You observe the crime scene; I observe everything else, including the people. It's my job." He threw his head back towards the mouth of the alleyway. "I gather he doesn't know."

Sara shook her head carefully, doing her best not to make her headache any worse.

"Does anyone else know?"

Sara flushed, and averted her eyes. "Nick and Catherine."

"Good. You need someone to watch out for you."

"Yeah, everyone seems to think that." She rolled her eyes.

"Then everyone is right, now aren't they?" He put his hands on his waist and stared the young woman down. "Look Sara, I'm not going to ask you any uncomfortable questions. What you do in your private life is your business, but you need to take it easy and remember it takes two to tango. The father, whether he is your soul mate or just some random guy you picked up in a bar, he deserves to know. And you really should tell Gris, he's your supervisor." The last words were whispered as he could already hear familiar footfalls coming up behind him. He patted the young woman on the shoulder, and announced "Stomach flu's a bitch." Then he spun to face the man behind him.

Grissom studied his old friend darkly, before turning to his CSI. "Dave said he'd be here in ten minutes." He held out the evidence bags he'd collected to Sara, and watched as she took them. It was the first time in a long time that he'd really taken a good look at her and he didn't like what he saw. She was drawn, pale, and shaking. He mentally cursed himself for not noticing sooner. But how could he when he'd spent the better part of the time since their break up avoiding more than even a cursory glance in her direction? Sure he'd looked at her but it had been through the longing and somewhat angry eyes of a former lover. Though realistically the only person he really had a right to be angry with was himself.

His hand clasped around his arm stopping her from moving towards the truck, his blue eyes taking in the red rims of her eyes, and light beading of sweat across her forehead. It was still night and a relatively cool evening. He'd known for a long time that he had a tendency to oblivious. It was something that he'd done his best to work on when they were together. But gone was the man who had begun to emerge in the midst of their tenderness and love. For the past month he hadn't even taken the time to observe her demeanor or read into any of the emotion he'd seen revealed on her face. It was far too painful. Instead he'd ignored her to the best of his ability, and locked away his own feelings, only acknowledging them when they'd forced themselves to the surface. In short he'd treated her like any other member of his team – and it wasn't a fair shake for the woman he'd been sharing his bed and his heart with.

Brass moved over to talk to his uniforms who'd finally managed to rouse the drunk who'd been sleeping beside the dumpster.

Grissom turned and eyed the four men as the drunk took a swing at Brass. A moment later the filthy and bearded man was face down on the cement, Brass' foot firmly embedded in his back.

There was a lump in his throat, as the nightshift supervisor, turned back to the woman in front of him, placed the evidence bags on the ground, pulled out his cell phone and hit dial. It grew exponentially when he heard a familiar Texas swang on the other end of the line. "Nick, Sara and I are a block north of West Harmon Road on Aldebaran Ave. It's an alley. Sara is a little under the weather. I need you to come and take her home, then I'll need your help processing." That done flipped his phone shut.

The look of anger on Sara's face had no fire behind it. "I can do this."

"I know you can. But Sara this is not about your ability to work the case, and my sending you home isn't a punishment." He leveled his gaze at her, ordering himself not to fall into her eyes. "You're sick. You shouldn't be working. You need to go home and rest. This is the only way for you to get better. You need to listen to what your body is saying to you and treat yourself a little kinder."

She almost laughed in his face, but she held off when she caught the raw look of pain in his cerulean orbs. Instead, she allowed herself to be led to the Denali, her heart reveling in his all too familiar touch while her head tried not to think about it at all.

"Call me this evening before shift and let me know how you feel." With that he tucked her into the truck, grabbed the evidence off the ground, threw it in the backseat, and then wandered off back towards his scene.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

AN: I knew where I wanted to go with this one. Wasn't sure how to get there. But I think I managed it. Thanks to you all for your words of encouragement it means the world to me. You are the best readers and reviewers for that matter. Sorry it's a little short. IF YOU GET A SECOND NOTIFICATION FOR THIS CHAPTER its because I popped back in and corrected a few things... and of course the sytem treats it like a new chapter.

**Chapter 10**

The sun was already in the early morning sky by the time Nick Stokes arrived. He recognized the area of town as being one of the seedier places off strip. They generally pulled at least a body a month out of the surrounding neighborhood. Not a lot by big city standards, even Vegas standards for that matter, but it was enough.

Up and down the street, shopkeepers and fast food places were turning off the outside lights and fresh employees were beginning to wander in before the start of a new work day. Most of the closest shops were twenty-four hour places. The only stores that actually having closed being the T-shirt and souvenir shops scattered in amongst the restaurants, variety, and liquor stores.

"You look like the sunset, Buttercup, beautiful to gaze at but sinking fast." Nick leaned in the Denali window and couldn't help but smile at his friend.

His comment actually brought a grin to Sara Sidle's drawn face. She'd been sitting; eyes closed doing her best to rid her mind of the image of the tiny newborn, and simply allowing the queasiness to wash over her. It was easier than fighting it, and no one cared if every once in a while she had to stick her head out the window and add to the pile in the ditch. "You might want to watch where you're stepping, cowboy… otherwise your spurs might get a little mucky."

"So I see…You sure know how to make a mess…" He'd noticed the gastric disaster upon his approach. He reached out wiped away a small gathering of dampness at the corner of her eye. "What's with the tears?

"Hormones, tough scene, frustration..." She was angry at herself, and her body for betraying her and preventing her from doing something she would have been perfectly fine with less than a month earlier.

"I take it, it's a bad one." Nick cast a glance towards the alley.

"Yeah," was all she said, preferring not to dredge up the image that elaborating would bring with it.

"Decomp?"

The slim brunette nodded. "That's part of it." She shook of the memory. "It was just…" Her voice broke. "It was just really horrible."

The Texan shook his head a spark of anger igniting in his belly. "Why did Gris bring you? He knew you weren't feeling well."

"No one else available." She laid her head against the back of the seat and tamped down the bile in her chest.

"That's bullshit, Alicia was sitting in the breakroom drinking coffee and reading some fashion magazine when I left." The look in Sara's eyes told him his words had hurt. "Sorry." He reached in the window and squeezed her arm.

"He said he couldn't bring her to the scene." The young woman didn't elaborate. To do so, would mean treading into an area best left un-traveled.

"Why the hell not?"

Sara was set to tell her friend to drop it, when she lost the latest battle against her stomach. A soft moan was her only warning as she stuck her head out the window and let go of whatever was left in her stomach.

Nick dropped the subject, deciding that getting his sick friend home was more important arguing about something that wasn't really Sara's fault. "Here…" He passed her a stack of saltines from his pocket.

She gazed at him through liquid eyes. "Do you have shares in the company?"

Nick shook his head. "Began carrying them around once I discovered I got you knocked up."

Despite being ill, Sara's punch was quick as lightening. The tall Texan let out a soft _oof_, as her fist hit his shoulder. "I told you I HATE that term, it's very derogatory."

"Ouch, man you have boney little fingers." Nick was still rubbing his shoulder when Jim Brass joined them.

The detective, who'd been unsuccessfully canvassing the nearby shops, wandered up from his latest interrogation. "You here to pick Princess up?" He watched as Sara ripped open a package of crackers and popped one into her mouth.

"Yeah… I'm going to go talk to Gris a minute and I'll be back. Come on." He drew open the truck door and reached in to help, Sara out. "Let's get you into my truck."

The young woman's mouth dropped. "Jesus Nick, I'm not an invalid." She waved him off and climbed out of the vehicle, barely missing the pile of vomit she'd left behind.

"I know honeybunch." It was Brass' mouth that dropped this time. "Just trying to take care of you."

With a huff Sara shook her head and stomped over to the other Denali, a trail of Nick's laugher following her as she slammed the door behind her.

"She's so damn cute when she's pissed." He threw the comment casually in Brass' direction, and didn't stay to see the look of utter shock on the man's face. Instead he turned and headed down the small passage in the direction David had just walked.

The alley was much like any other in Las Vegas, disgusting, fetid, and littered with waste. Nick could see the two men up ahead crouched over a half open garbage bag. It sent a chill down his spine, his investigator's radar setting in. In his experience, that had to be bad; either dismemberment, or a child.

He realized he was right with the latter as he approached and found himself turning away at both the smell and the vision of the tiny infant swaddled in cold black plastic. Sara had been right, it was horrible.

"Someone just tossed her out like rubbish." David commented, his hands moving over the small child. "Cause of death is pretty apparent."

"Yeah…" Grissom leaned in and took a photo as David lifted the body into an infant sized body bag… More black plastic. Nick hissed under his breath, partially because in his eyes the child should have been wrapped in something soft despite its lifeless state, and partially because he was picturing Sara's likely reaction to the scene.

A trill ring had everyone reaching for their cell phones. "It's me…" The night shift supervisor announced. Stripping off his gloves, he dropped them into an open baggy and grabbed his phone. "Grissom…" He turned away and dropped his voice but couldn't hide the conversation in the relative quiet of the morning. "You what? No…." He scratched his head aggravated. "I told you I wanted to come…"

David, doing his best not to eavesdrop zipped up the small bag, placed it carefully on the gurney, and nodded in Nick's direction. "Tell Grissom I'll meet him back at the lab." He whispered.

"Right Dave-o." He waved the younger man off, and turned to look in his annoyed supervisor's direction. He was still on the phone. Still arguing too and Nick had a sneaking suspicion of who was on the other side of the line. A moment later and a few decibels higher, and he knew for sure. He still couldn't hear the conversation, but the fact that it was Grissom's newest love interest pissed him off even more for some reason. He wasn't one to outright dislike someone, but Alicia Telis had a way about her that just grated on him.

"Then re-schedule." There was a timbre in his boss' voice that said he knew it was a battle he was going to lose already. "Look I'm at a brutal crime scene. I don't have time for this." Irritated beyond almost anything Nick had seen in a while the younger man watched as his boss slammed his cell phone shut. "You're here to take her home." Grissom turned and looked at an exhausted Nick Stokes. It wasn't a question but rather a point in fact. "I need you back here ASAP." He motioned around him.

"Why don't you call in some more help?" Nick laid it out there. "I'll be right back, but…" His eyes traveled the litter strewn passage from where it was cordoned off at the front to the yellow crime scene tape at the other end. It was going to take the two of them all day to process. He told his boss as much.

"There is no one else. Sara's sick Greg, and Warrick are busy with something else, Lindsay has an x-ray and physio appointment this morning so Cath's not available."

"You forgot your illustrious girlfriend." Nick challenged, his hands going to his hips. He was still angry that Sara, as sick as she was, had been dragged out to the scene while Alicia had been sitting back at the lab doing nothing.

Grissom stared at him looking very much like he wanted to say something other than what came out of his mouth. "She can't process this scene." His stance was very much a defensive one almost guilty, as he squinted at the younger man, and then crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why's that?" The Texan knew he was pushing his luck, but he wanted some answers.

"That's none of you business."

It was blunt and to the point and the edge to Grissom's voice was intended as a warning to back off, but Nick would have none of it. "It is when you drag a sick CSI out to a scene, and your girlfriend is sitting back in the lab drinking coffee and reading a magazine…. All I'm asking for is a little help here. I know days is slammed. If she comes out we can get this put to bed in a few hours."

The graveyard supervisor gritted his teeth, but in the interest of keeping things between them workable he tried to explain without giving any real information. "I'm both her and your boss, and as such I reserve the right to decide who works which case, and I don't want her working this particular one."

"Why?"

Grissom let out a heavy sigh already hating himself for what he was about to say. "I can't it may upset her."

"What?" Nick was incredulous a spike of anger driving its' way into his brain and obliterating all rational thought. He did however maintain enough intelligence to keep his voice low, so as not to let anyone watching from the sidewalk hear their conversation. His words were laced with tension. "She's a CSI for God's sake, we all get upset at some of the shit we see, but we dig in and do our job. It's called professionalism. I've missed dates, appointments, gone home and had nightmares from some of the stuff we've seen and dealt with, and I'm sure everyone else on shift has too. So you'll excuse me, if I don't buy your explanation, and if you want to write me up for being insubordinate go ahead, because frankly this smacks of favoritism. It has for a while now. It's just that no one has said anything to you about it, out of respect." Knowing he wouldn't get anything further out of the man, and also not wanting to get fired, the Texan turned and stomped towards the mouth of the alley. He was halfway there, before he turned around and took a few steps back towards his boss. "And I'm only speaking for her because, firstly she's to sick to talk right now, and secondly she doesn't want to say anything to upset you, but Sara came out here despite the fact that she feels like shit and did her best to do her job, and you let Alicia get away with this crap. It sucks man."

"You'd do best to let Sara talk for herself, Nick…" Was all Grissom said, as he spun and started processing the immediate vicinity.

The younger man, almost livid, was too busy spewing out a stream of curses inside his own head to notice his supervisor cave in the side of a garbage can with his boot clad foot. A minute later he was in the truck and tearing away from the scene leaving behind a squeal of rubber.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer : Chapter 1

AN: Thanks for your patience. This is unbeta'd. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews as always they push me to write more. Don't hate me. This is a weird chapter, and I'm mean and I know it, but the characters really did help me write this one.

Chapter:

She dropped the small photograph on the table in front of an exhausted Gil Grissom, and went to work massaging his shoulders.

"You couldn't reschedule?" There was a modicum of anger in his voice would have gone unnoticed by anyone but the few who knew him well.

As it was it went either unrecognized or ignored by Alicia Telis. Instead she leaned in and pointed to a spot on the photo. "They think it's a boy… though it's hard to see and still pretty small."

Grissom remained silent as the slender red head leaned in and trailed her tongue seductively along the ridge of his ear. "You'll have to make me an honest woman soon." She was already at the twelve week mark generally early for an ultrasound, but she'd been wanting something tangible to share with him, and had very much intended it to be a reminder that there were precious few days left before she was past the point of no return for anything except a late abortion.

She said as much to him.

In an instant he was on his feet and silently moving towards the bedroom, leaving his surprised fiancé far behind him.

A few moments later there was a knock at the door, but he left it unanswered. Instead Gil Grissom pulled his sheets up around him, an unparalleled anger gnawing away at the very core of psyche. It made him feel cold and unsettled as he drifted through the final precious twilight minutes between consciousness and obliteration.

"You're in early." Nick wandered up behind the attractive blonde and bumped her on the shoulder with his hip.

Cath swatted lightly in his direction, and went back tapping the keyboard she was working at. "I have been at this for three hours." She watched as sole prints popped across the screen one at a time. "This database is set up for entire footprints or partials, not pieces of a shoe, so everything has to be compared manually." She took another swig of luke warm coffee and dropped the cup back on the table. "It's a bitch job."

"I hear you." Nick picked up the small baggy containing the piece of shoe and examined it. "Not a hell of a lot to go on. Is this from the murder at the Tangiers a few days ago...? Surely you have other evidence." He placed the item back on the desk and took a gulp from his own cup.

She stopped tapping the keyboard and indicated the open door with her head. "Shut it and I'll tell you." Was all she said, before she resumed scanning the database in front of her.

"Okay…" Nick pulled up a rolling stool plopped his jean clad butt down on it. "Shoot."

Catherine Willows stopped again and turned to face him her eyes studying him intently. "It's from your case actually. But not indicative of a suspect in the murder of your vic."

The Texan frowned, the look on his face betraying a note of confusion.

"You said you processed the alley." She held up the baggy. "Would you have missed this?"

Nick shook his head. "Naw, no way." He examined the item in her hand once again. "You found this behind the house?"

"Yeah. A few feet from where I found the evidence. I knew you wouldn't have missed it so I figured it had to come from our thief."

"It looks like it's from a running shoe." The younger man commented.

"An expensive Nike brand actually." She indicated the screen and Nick noted the familiar swoosh at the top of it. "and here's something I bet you didn't know, each year the company puts out over three hundred and sixty different styles – that's almost a thousand pairs I have to sort through and visually compare."

"Ouch." Nick watched as she flipped to the next screen.

"I'm focusing on the last 3 years. But it took me all night last night to narrow it down to the correct brand." She downed another mouthful of coffee. "It's possible that our perp has a pair of older shoes that haven't been worn a lot, but I honestly think these are relatively new." She drew her finger across the nubby bottom. "There's not a lot of wear here. Something you would only find with a new or little used pair of shoes."

"So once you find the shoe, then what are you gonna do? I have 6 pairs of runners myself; I don't wear all of them to work. In fact I rarely wear any of them anywhere but to the gym or out to jog. So how are you going to figure out who they belong to."

"This is a piece of cumulative evidence, Nick. We need to find the perp. Once we do, we get a court order." She flicked a glance his way.

"And what, check out their shoe closet?" He dragged his hand across his chin, and rubbed it absently. "That's a little weak."

"Well I sincerely hope this isn't all the evidence we manage to accumulate." Catherine shot back.

"Well whatever we find, I hope we do it fast. I had to hike back out to that place yesterday to get the blood sample_, again_. While I was gone Gris left Alicia here and took Sara out to work a homicide off strip."

"Yeah I heard it was a bad one." She stopped and turned placing her hand on the younger man's shoulder and squeezed. "I also heard you lost your cool."

Shock marred the Texan's face. "Who the hell told you that?"

"One of the cops at the scene..." Her blue eyes caught and held his gaze. "They may not have been able to hear you but even the dimmest bulbs on the force, are well trained at reading body language."

Nick shook his head in disgust; partially because he hated PD and lab gossip, and partially because he was still irritated with himself over losing it. It was unprofessional, and out of character for him, regardless of how justified his anger had been. "It was wrong Cath."

She waved him off. "Save the explanation, Nicky. You don't have to defend yourself to me. I get it. I really do."

He stared at her speculatively.

"Look you need to keep your cool for Sara's sake. Pretty soon that new baby is going to be here and then you will be sole provider for a few months at least. You need your job. Let me tell you kids are damn expensive at any age." She waited for her words to settle in. Truthfully, she was still somewhat surprised at the recent turn of events. Admittedly, she hadn't seen it coming, but things in her own personal life had been so muddled for the last year or so, that preoccupation had become the name of the game where anything other than family and work was concerned. She'd allowed her closeness with the rest of the team slip. Yet, despite the shock of it all, she was happy for the twosome. "Grissom's a soft touch most of the time, but he can be hard when he has to."

Embarrassed Nick took this for the warning it was. "Gotcha."

"Next time come to me, I'll see what I can do to head off any impending disasters."

"Did your source at PD tell you what the case was about?" he took a gulp of his own steaming coffee and gagged. "Think that pay cut affected Greg more that he wants to let on. This takes like turpentine."

"I bought mine on the way in…Didn't help any, it can still strip paint. Admit it, the boy has spoiled us." She let out a heavy sigh and then shook her head. "And no he didn't tell me what the case was about, so why don't you."

"Dead baby - strangled to death with an electrical cord and left in a garbage bag in an alley off strip." Even saying it brought a lump to his throat.

This drew the older woman's attention back to the man sitting beside her. Her eyes betrayed a level of sadness. "Sounds pretty horrible."

"It was and I only saw it for a few minutes." He swallowed hard, and looked away trying to chase away the memory. "I can't imagine how Sara managed to stay there as long as she did. It was wrong Cath."

"I understand your upset, and that was something, I admit, Sara shouldn't have seen. But you really can't blame him. I don't think he would have made her work the scene if he'd known she was pregnant. Even Grissom's not that oblivious." She patted his hand. "You honestly should tell him."

"I can't." Dark eyes studied blue for a moment. It was a topic he wasn't really willing to discuss, as it wasn't his decision to make.

Maybe it was the look on Nick's face that made her back off, but Catherine sighed. "Okay, but you can't hide it forever. And most importantly, either can Sara."

The younger man nodded. "I know."

"And things like this may happen until you tell him." She did her best to reason with him. "You can't expect Grissom to treat Sara with kid gloves if he doesn't know the whole story."

Nick dragged his fingers through his hair and simply nodded again. "I get that. I do. But this was a serious lack of judgment on his behalf. He left Alicia here reading a magazine in the breakroom and dragged Sara out there. She was sick as hell. Then when I called him on it or at least asked him to call her in to help us process after I'd taken Sara home, he refused, and then wouldn't give me a good reason as to why. We scoured that alley until 3pm."

"Nick he's your boss. He doesn't need a reason, and you may not like this, and it may not be fair, but he doesn't have to justify his choices to you." She returned her eyes to the screen, and began moving through the database once again.

Swiping his cup up off the desk where he'd set it the Texan drew himself to his feet. "Well for what it's worth, that sucks."

Catherine grinned at him. "Well for what it's worth I agree." She watched as he turned to leave. "Oh… how did it go out at that house? Did you replace the sample?"

"Yeah. I locked it up yesterday, gonna give it to over to Mandy today."

"Good." She stopped and examined the shoe on the screen in front of her. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Nick bobbed his head in her direction and left, still unsettled about the previous day.

He was just about to enter the breakroom when Sara rushed out, pushing her way past him. "Hey… whoa…" He reached for her but she was already rounding the corner. Torn between going after her, and finding out what it was that had her flying down the hallway in the first place, his curiosity won out and he entered the room determined to put his concern to rest and then head off after her.

Greg was sitting at the table exchanging a meaningful glance with Warrick, when Nick entered. For a moment he began to wonder if it was another bout of nausea that had sent the slim brunette fleeing. She'd seemed better when he'd picked her up that evening, but as with most things he knew that during a pregnancy _better _was a relative term and it was also one that could rapidly change. Playing it cool, he sauntered over, topped up his cup and then turned to face the other members of his team. "What's up with Sara? She ran out of here like she was on fire."

Warrick opened his mouth to speak but the former lab rat beat him to the punchline.

"The population in Vegas is about to go up." Greg announced.

"Huh?" Nick's eyes flicked between the two men sitting at the table.

"You asked, _what's up with Sara_." Greg reiterated.

The Texan's brow furrowed and he tried to keep his cool wondering if someone else had managed to figure out Sara's condition. He was about to explain that he didn't get Greg's reference when the young CSI pointed towards the announcement board. There, tacked right in the middle of it, was a blown-up photocopy of a sonogram and above it, in bright pink and blue letters, the words, _congratulations to Gil Grissom, and Alicia Telis._

Nick Stokes actually spit out his mouthful of coffee spraying both of the men in front of him. "Holy shit!" He announced; a few pieces of a very large puzzle rapidly falling into place.

"Next time warn me, man, I'll put on a raincoat…" Warrick swiped at a few of the droplets on the front of his shirt and got up to go and change. "I'll send you my cleaning bill." He announced and headed towards the locker room.

Greg tossed his head towards the sonogram. "Felt the same way when I saw it." The younger man grimaced. "But I think Sara took it way worse." He eyed the doorway. "You think I should go talk to her?"

Nick shook his head. "Nah… Look, I'll do it. Why don't you go change your shirt?" Before the younger man could argue he had cleared the room and was on his way through the lab trying to find the missing brunette.

He located her in the drying room off the garage. She was sorting through their John Doe's blood spattered clothing, since it had finally dried. She didn't look up when he entered.

Closing the door behind him, he wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming smell of death in the room. He didn't know how she could stand it, her stomach being as touchy as it was lately. "Hey…" His mood was somber he moved over to the table and nudged Sara gently. "I think I get some of it, but I need you to fill in the blanks before I lose my job for throttling my boss."

"It's not all his fault." Sara's words were rough and betrayed the fact that she'd been crying. She didn't look in his direction. Instead, she mapped and then photographed the blood spatter on their victim's shirt.

There was dead silence in the room.

"Sara…"

"It's not."

"Then explain it to me because what I see right now tells me the opposite." Nick stilled her hands and removed the evidence from the table in front of her.

"I can't." She reached for the shirt.

Nick moved it out of her reach. "Sara, what ever you tell me will stay between you and I. Promise."

The tall brunette shook her head and swiped angrily at the corner of her eye. "It's not my place to explain."

"Fine, then I'll go and get an explanation from Grissom." The Texan dropped the shirt back on the table angrily and headed for the door.

"Please don't." The request was soft, almost pained.

"Then talk to me." Nick challenged.

"I never thought I could get pregnant." She tugged the shirt out of its pile and laid it flat on the table. "Something happened when I was a teenager, and I was told it was highly unlikely that I would ever be able to conceive."

Nick wanted to ask her exactly what the something was, but he let it go. It was a topic best broached at another time. "Okay…"

Snatching up a marker, she passed him a camera, and began to circle spatter marks, while her partner photo documented. "We…" She stumbled over the word. "We'd been seeing each other about a month." She stopped and swallowed hard. "I'm not sure how long Alicia had been on days then, but I had never met her." Leaning in she studied on of the blood smears. "That looks like a print." She pointed to it.

Studying the woman beside him Nick leaned in, took several shots and then dropped the camera back onto the layout area's surface. Before she could say a word he removed the marker from her hand and dropped it beside the shirt.

Sara looked at him with pained eyes.

"Go on." He encouraged.

She shook her head. "Grissom had met her, once before he'd said - apparently at a conference a month earlier." Suddenly feeling ill slumped onto the stool beside her. She didn't like discussing her private life with anyone. It was something that was a carryover from her childhood. There'd been an overwhelming level of embarrassment and secrets growing up and she'd learned that the only person she could really trust with her heart and past was herself. That was until Grissom had come along, and even then it had taken a long time to tell him her story.

"Was he seeing you at the time?" Nick didn't like that she had stopped and he didn't like the look of anguish on her face. Some small part of him told him to back off, but the rational side reminded him that he needed to know the whole story if he was to be a party to everything that was going on.

"No… it was just before we got together." She pulled her hair back off of her faces with a shaking hand and neatly tucked it behind her ear. "Things were going well. Then she showed up one day. Saying she was pregnant, and that it was his."

"Bitch…" The word sounded strange coming from Nick's mouth he was normally much more careful about judging people and even more so about stating his opinion out loud. But it had been an odd few days and his hackles were still up from his encounter with Grissom earlier that day. Add to that the fact that he had a genuine hatred growing for Alicia Telis, and he felt the moniker was more than justified.

Sara couldn't help but smile at the man's protectiveness. "Well, I'm pregnant as well; does that make me a bitch?"

"No. I've met her type before. She delights in making people hurt and rubbing their nose in it. Plus I have no doubt she would do anything to get what she wants." Dark eyes met dark. He also had a sneaky suspicion she might be the one causing trouble at the lab, despite what Catherine said about her being cleared by Brass. It was something he was planning to look into on his own.

"Well, she's got what she wanted, right?" Sara tossed an achingly sad smile at him.

"I don't get why Grissom, would even buy into this. Does he love her? I mean so what? She's pregnant. It's not like it doesn't happen all the time. They can both take responsibility and raise the kid – assuming it's his. They don't have to be together or married for that matter."

"I can't answer for him. I don't know how he feels about her. But he must care for her. I mean they are living together, engaged... I do know she insisted they be together or she would abort it." Sara shook her head and stared at the wolf's face on her friend's belt buckle; preferring not to see the look of sympathy in his eyes. "I knew it was a decision that had to be his, and to make it easier, I told him I wouldn't be responsible for him telling her to abort it."

At this she did look up to gauge Nick's reaction. There was no sympathy in his eyes; instead there was a blend of compassion and anger. It almost brought the tears on full force. She averted her gaze.

Nick crouched in front of her, brought his hand to her chin and directed her eyes back to his. "Go on..."

"That's it. There's really nothing more to tell you." She pursed her lips and held back a sob. "He made his choice. I knew he didn't have the heart to tell her to kill his own child. We never really talked about children. He knew about my difficulties from the start, and when we talked about whether he ever wanted children – it was a one time conversation and very much in the abstract - he told me that it was something he had never thought would happen to him."

There was a deep frown etched into Nick's face. "You need to tell him about this baby."

"And what would that accomplish?" Tears began to flow in earnest, so he pulled her into his arms. "I can't play one child off against another, and make him choose, Nick, that's wrong on every level."

He knew she was right, but the truth of it still left a horrible taste in his mouth. He waited for her tears to stop before he pulled away and planted a gentle kiss on he forehead. The Texan was about to tell her that he would be there for her as long as she needed when they heard a throat clear in the doorway.

Nick was on his feet instantly, his torso blocking Grissom's view of Sara, who was busy frantically wiping the tears from her face.

She needn't have worried about him seeing her. His dark blue eyes engaged the younger man entirely and his words were caustic even to her ears.

"Nick, I don't care what you two do on your own time, but this lab is a government facility and a place of business. Keep the personal stuff at home."

With that he turned a stomped off down the hallway.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer chapter 1

AN: Okay folks this chapter literally wrote itself. I should be working on novel edits with my writing partner, but I am slightly possessed by this story and feel very compelled to write it. It is, as always, unbeta'd so forgive me for any errors. Finally thank you all for your amazing feedback. It is empowering and creatively stimulating to know someone is reading. More, more!!!

**Chapter 12**

One of the things Catherine Willows appreciated about Nick Stokes was the fact that he was generally even tempered, and invariably rational. However, he was anything but this when she ran into him in the locker room a mere twenty minutes after she'd last seen him. In fact he'd managed to pound a dent in both a vacant locker and his hand by the time she was able to stop him. As it was, the poor guy was going to be hurting for the rest of shift and worse yet there was a good chance his hand would be a lovely shade of blue by noon the following day.

After a succinct and rather foul mouthed explanation, that had the blonde haired woman snickering internally, she'd left him to lick his wounds, clean himself up and head the break room for assignments.

Her hope, as she made her way down the hall towards Grissom's office –after she'd made a pit stop to peruse the sonogram, of course - was that he was still in there so she would have a moment to talk to him and ultimately head off the impending disaster of the twosome meeting up in a public place and having it out in front of the entire team.

Thankfully, she was in luck. The light emanating from between the slats and his bulky form hunched over the desk made her smile as she entered his office and closed the door behind her.

Gil Grissom looked up from the file he was examining and scowled in her direction; a heavy sigh punctuating his desire NOT to have whatever conversation his friend had planned. "I have to finish this evaluation and get it into Ecklie within the next twenty minutes otherwise Greg won't get the raise due him. Plus I have to hand out assignments some time tonight."

Catherine dropped into the chair in front of her supervisor and long time friend and grinned at him. "Then listen to what I have to say and I'll get out of your hair."

Grissom paused a moment, then taking his glasses off he dropped them on the desk in front of him. He'd slept like shit, his slumber broken by a steady stream of nightmares he really couldn't recall, though all of them - he did remember – had been bathed in the color red. He figured if he were ever to visit a PEAP counselor he or she would have a field day with the trappings of his mind in its present state. He took a moment to rub the exhaustion out of his eyes, and then leveled Catherine with a no nonsense gaze. "Okay…" He closed the file in front of him. "You have my attention."

"I just ran into Nick." She stared at him a knowing look passing over her face, and her tone telling him he should know full well what the conversation was about.

Confused, he shook his head. "Alright?"

"He was more than a little pissed."

"About yesterday, still?" Grissom had spent the better part of the morning and afternoon with the angry and mute younger man. After dropping Sara off at home Nick had returned with a hostile attitude and other than throwing one or two absolutely necessary case related comments his way, the brooding Texan had treated him to a cold shoulder the entire time.

"Well, yes and no." Catherine grimaced. "I heard about _that_ first at PD earlier this evening and then from the horse's mouth less than an hour ago. To his benefit he didn't come tattling. I asked after hearing the rumors at PD." She leaned forward and examined her friend's face for clues as to his present state of mind. "This has to do with you telling him that his and Sara's behavior in the drying room was in appropriate for the lab."

A glimmer of both understanding and disbelief crossed the older man's face. "He came to you with this?"

"Well no. I got the story out of him after he'd done a number on his hand and the locker door he caved in. I understand how you may have thought what was going on was in appropriate…"

"It was."

"Maybe, but according to him, Nick was comforting Sara. She still isn't feeling well, and he was simply giving her a supportive hug. But apparently, you behaved as though they were doing the horizontal limbo on the drying room layout table for all to see."

Grissom opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the blonde, who by this time was on a roll. "Now, the way I see it, this coming from a man whose fiancé…" She actually held up her fingers and hooked quotation marks in the air at the label, "takes every opportunity to suck his lips off and swallow his face whole - in front of any and everyone watching - and we're talking at the lab, at crime scenes, at PD and anywhere else she can grab a moment - and openly announces your impending parenthood to everyone at work, your behavior earlier sounds more than a little hypocritical. I would say." She leaned back in her chair waiting for his response and then added. "Oh and congratulations on matching ova to sperm, I'm sure you two will have a wonderful uber child."

Grissom turned a lovely shade of horrified red and squinted in her direction. "Alicia told everyone we were expecting?"

"Well I'm not sure that _told_ would be the apposite word. And the word _we_ in terms of a couple expecting is misleading since only one person is actually carrying the kid. But I'm fairly certain that everyone in the lab knows by now that you are about to be blessed with a little Grissom. And I know that for a long time Sara had a bit of a crush on you, hell we all knew, but this - well I imagine it would hurt a lot more if she wasn't already involved with Nick, so don't rain on her parade. Let her be happy. You are."

Grissom's eyebrows almost hit his hairline, and his heart suddenly felt like it was caught in a vice grip. The kiss at the restaurant had hurt like hell, but he'd been able to delude himself into thinking that it was something friendly, maybe even comforting. That thought had allowed him some measure of comfort. He swallowed away the lump in his throat, but was afraid to try and say anything lest the ache in his chest be found in his words. Catherine confirmation of the couple's involvement was akin to a stab in the heart. Despite the fact that he knew he had to move on, and despite the fact that on some level he'd expected it, he'd been unable to control his emotions earlier and had acted irrationally. It was very out of character for him, but he'd been powerless to stop himself.

Angrily, he shucked aside the thoughts plowing through his head, making a jumble of his besieged emotions. His eyes fell on Harry, his pet Tarantula, and he contemplated the state of his life, all the while studying the slow deliberate movements of the large arachnid. He felt a little like the small fly the spider was busily masticating.

Collecting his scattered thoughts, the graveyard supervisor fought back the migraine sitting just at the edge of his vision. First things first, he reminded himself. Clearing his throat slightly, he looked again at Catherine, who having had her say, was now on her feet and standing beside the door. "What do you mean she told the whole lab?"

The slim blonde looked at Grissom like he'd swallowed a snake; and was readily confused by the fact that out of everything she'd said to him, the only thing that appeared to have stuck was that the fact his fiancé had announced their impending parenthood. Then it struck her that maybe this little tidbit was something that he hadn't wanted the people at work to know. Tilting her head to the side she smiled tightly. "If it was meant to be a secret, you might want to go and take a look at the notice board in the breakroom."

Grissom paled at this and snatched the assignment slips up of his desk before plowing out of the office.

Grinning at the prospect of Alicia getting a little of what she'd been giving, Catherine followed close behind her friend as he made his way through the lab hallway, a few congratulations being thrown at him by various lab techs as he passed their respective work spaces.

He looked totally pissed off as he entered the staff room, his eyes falling on pretty much the entire team, who sat around the table conversing quietly. His eyes caught Sara's and he thought he caught a flash of hurt in them before she turned to address something Warrick was saying to her. Mandy who'd been standing in front of the corkboard grinned at him but when he didn't smile back she turned and sullenly left the room; a slight snicker bouncing its way down the hallway behind her, as she met up with Archie.

He hadn't actually intended to do it, but like in some movie of demonic possession, he reached over and snatched the photocopy and the pink and blue sign off of the board, crumpled it up and tossed it into the garbage.

This drew everyone's attention to him; looks ranging from concern to surprise to anger were smattered on their upturned faces.

"Nick, you're still working the baby in the alley case with me." He passed the younger man the official slip and pointed towards Greg's old haunt, day shift ran the DNA. Mandy may have something for us. Cath you're back on the Tangiers case you were working with Warrick. It's mostly processing to be done so I'm taking Warrick." They'd collected scads of evidence from the alley and were going to need help processing it. Plus with Warrick on the case the tension between he and the younger man might be a little more diffuse. He passed the only other slip in his hand to Sara but directed his words to the former lab rat. "Greg, Sara, DB out in the desert. Not sure about the state of the body. Keep me appraised of the situation, and let me know if there's any collection to be done."

He cocked his head to one side wondering if he should ask his next question, but found that it wasn't really an option, as a supervisor it was his responsibility. "How are you feeling?" Worried blue eyes studied warm brown ones.

A slight roll of her eyes accompanied Sara's response. "I'm fine." She responded climbing to her feet. "What about our John Doe case?" Looked at him without really seeing, her eyes focused somewhere over his shoulder, instead.

"Work it on your down time, I need you on this."

Sara nodded. "We have a fingerprint in blood on the dead man's shirt. I handed it off to Neil. We'll get the results to Jim if anything comes of it."

Grissom nodded in her direction and then turned to his fiancé who'd been quietly staring at him, an unreadable expression on her face. "Alicia. You're relieved of duty for the night. I want to see you in my office, and then you are to go home."

Mouths dropped but no one dared to say anything until he and a now supremely pissed off looking Alicia had cleared the room. Then smirks were silently passed around until everyone cleared the room.

"Hey Sara..." Using his uninjured hand Nick grabbed the young woman by her upper arm. "Can I talk to you about the print we found…?" He tugged her away from Greg who in turn stopped to wait for the slim brunette.

Pulling the keys from her pocket she tossed them to the younger man. "Grab the truck and I'll meet you in a minute. I need to take care of this and grab a few supplies."

"Get me some swabs will you?" Excited that he was going to be allowed to drive, a rarity when working with Sara, he almost skipped down the hallway.

"That's one strange boy, you know…" Nick watched the young CSI turn the corner and then tugged Sara into an empty lab.

"What's up?" Her evening brightened by Grissom's earlier display and feeling moderately guilty for it, she managed a small smile.

"Just making sure you're feeling okay." He returned her grin.

"I'm actually feeling almost human…" She surprised both of them with that statement. "How's your hand?"

He looked sheepish but kept it behind him. "It's alright."

"Let me see it." It wasn't a request but rather a demand. She held her hand out waiting for him to place his in hers.

The tall Texan frowned but complied, pulling his purplish, slightly swollen fist out from behind his back.

"Oh my God, Nick." She pressed on the enlarged appendage and watched as he winced. "Are you sure it's not broken?"

He waggled his fingers. "It's okay. Just a little sore."

She shook her head. "You have got to stop letting him do this to you. Either that or invest in a punching bag."

"It's hard not to get angry when his behavior is so very..." His face twisted as she felt along the top of his hand trying to determine if there were any broken bones. "frustrating… Ouch!"

She grinned at him awkwardly. "Sorry…" She massaged the swollen hand slightly; hoping the warmth of her touch would have a soothing effect. "You know sometimes he just doesn't get it. I have come to accept that. And honestly Nick, losing your job, or making trouble with the boss isn't worth it. Not for me. Not for this." Her dark eyes were sad, but she still forced a tiny smile.

"What if I happen to think it is?" His dark eyes explored her face. He'd known for some time that something in her past made her feel a little less worthy of love, or caring. He didn't know what it was but was determined to find out some time soon.

She gazed back at him silently, unsure of what to say.

"I happen to think that you and the baby you're carrying are worth getting upset over. I also happen to think that if he doesn't get it, he should be made to. He may be brilliant, but that doesn't preclude him from being accountable for his actions." Nick's expression was set in stone; bringing his hands up he placed them on both of her elbows and began carefully rubbing at her upper arms. "What else in life is there, Sara?"

His eyes were so intense that for a moment Sara thought he could see right through her.

"This is what it's all about. You can take money, power, and anything else this materialistic society deems important, and flush it down the toilet if you don't have, love, and someone to love you. So you'll pardon me if I get mad at the fact that he doesn't value what he could have. And I don't mean just now. I mean up to this point. This whole thing is so screwed up. I get that. But even before, there were times you were so sad. And I knew that it was because of him. You need to learn to value yourself more than to let him do this to you. For the sake of yourself and your child. Because in the end that's what's going to make you the mother I know you can be."

There were tears in her eyes when he'd finished and for a moment he thought she was going to yell at him, maybe punch him. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck tugging the surprised Texan into a powerful embrace. He returned it, in kind, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind telling him to tread with care - otherwise it was his own heart that would suffer.

"You are something special, Nick Stokes." Sara whispered her soft voice breaking in his ear and then stunned him with a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hey, you two break it up." A pair of startled faces turned to find an exasperated Catherine Willows standing in the doorway. "I just got through telling Grissom that he was out of line with his assumptions this morning and now I find you making out on the job."

Sara and Nick smiled at each other and broke apart, the two of them mumbling a couple of embarrassed, _sorry_-s.

A heavy sigh fluttered out of the blonde and she rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the twinge of jealousy in her chest. "No problem, but you do need to watch it around here from now on… Though, if the look on both their faces was anything to go by, I don't imagine he'll be out of his office anytime soon. In fact, we may have our own crime scene in there at some point this evening." She winked and passed Sara her travel cup. "You forgot this in the breakroom."

"Thanks."

The older woman favored Sara with a worried stare. "Be careful out there. I would have prefered Nick or I with you, as opposed to Greg. But Grissom didn't look like he was willing to compromise this evening. " She handed the young brunette a piece of paper. "And these are your AFIS results. Neil asked me to give them to you."

Nick stared over Sara's shoulder. They had a positive match to the previous print. It put Ruth Gamine at the scene during the time of John Doe's death. "Ha, ha! We got her, pardner." He intoned, mistakenly held his hand up for a high five and then crumpled when she obliged giving a heavy handed smack to his injured appendage. He let out a soft howl.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry." Sara turned a full crimson, and grabbed his hand, making him yelp again.

"That has to be broken." Catherine piped up, and moved in to take a closer look at the younger man's hand.

He wiggled his fingers. "I have movement."

"That means nothing. So did Lindsay after wiping out at her dance rehearsal. Now, she's in a cast up to her shoulder." She poked the contused area over the back of Nick's hand.

"Jesus…!" He sucked the word in and backed away from the two women.

"Maybe a just fracture, you're just lucky it's your left hand."

The two women exchanged glances, but Catherine was the first to speak. "I'll take him down to see Doc. Have him x-ray it."

Sara bobbed her head. "I'll put this in the cabinet in your office and then give Brass a call."

"Sounds like a plan." Smiling at the younger man the petite blonde supervisor looped her arm through his and led him out of the room. "Nicky my boy, love can definitely hurt." She teased.

Watching the slim brunette dash ahead of them, he nodded his head and silently agreed. It most definitely could

* * *

Gil Grissom was tempted to slam the door behind him. In fact it took every ounce of fortitude he had not to. Instead, he closed it softly and indicated his guest chair to the young woman standing haughtily in the middle of the room. 

When she crossed her arms over her chest and cast a stony glare his way instead of sitting, he knew that the situation had the ability to escalate from bad to worse. Though, in his mind worse was a relative term since his life in recent months had become what could only be described as a nightmare. However, this didn't mean he was willing to cause a scene that would have the whole lab talking for months.

Still, the fact remained that never in his 50 years had he ever desired to throttle someone so badly. He normally considered himself non violent and even tempered but looking at the woman standing in front of him with her three hundred dollar slacks – he'd seen the tag in the bathroom waste bin - and her equally expensive low cut red blouse, she looked like anything other than the type he would ever be even remotely attracted to. Not to say that she wasn't pretty. She was extremely attractive by pin-up standards. It's just that those things had never truly interested him.

"I need you to go home." He started, his blue eyes returning the icy gaze she was aiming his way. "You have tonight off."

She squinted at him much like a leopard eyes its prey; her words were cold and emotionless despite their meaning. "I can't believe you crunched up the picture of our baby."

Grissom massaged his temples doing his best not to reach into the drawer and pull out his meds or better yet his gun. "That was private business. You should have asked me before putting it up for all to see."

"Most parents are proud of their children." This time there was way more emotion in her voice than he would have liked. In fact it went up a few octaves, having the effect of nails on a blackboard to the man. "Most men are proud of their wives and want to share the joy of parenthood with everyone they know."

Still aggravated over his private life becoming fodder for office gossip pool, he was tempted to ask her where the hell she got the idea that he was proud, hell make that even happy about being forced to make a decision between marrying someone he wasn't even remotely attracted to and killing a child he'd never planned on having - especially with a total stranger. Never mind the fact that her expectations of his love, companionship, and respect in his eyes were more than a little fantastical considering the circumstances. But he bit his tongue and instead of spewing out that particular brand off cruelty, he grimaced, placed his glasses on the desk in front of him and leveled her with his best no no-nonsense gaze. "You need to understand, that I'm not most men."

"You sure as hell aren't." She wiped caustically at a tear her voice creeping up in volume. "You should have just told me to kill it to begin with instead of letting me try live this charade."

"You didn't give me much of a choice, Alicia." Despite everything he couldn't be the one to tell her to kill something that was half his - a tiny innocent child. If there was one thing he had learned doing the work he did, was that life is the most precious thing. And that far too many children die at the hands of someone who should have been there to protect them. Sara had been right. The minute he knew that there was the potential for him to be a father, he could never do harm to that child. "I chose the less…" He did his best to search for a word that wasn't horribly offensive. "…the less _difficult_ of the options given to me, but you can't honestly expect me to just jump into a relationship with you wholeheartedly. Something like this takes a lot of time and getting used to."

Her eyes turned cold and for a moment it scared him that he might just have pushed her over the edge. The worst thing being, that there was a small part of him that hoped he had. Regardless of the outcome, the present conversation had to happen. He simply couldn't allow things to continue as they were. Already knee deep in mire, Grissom thought he might as well wade a little deeper, since he knew at this point he had to either take back some control of his life or lose pretty much everything he had worked for. "I can't tell you what to do about the baby." He said softly. "But I can tell you that you have to start acting like a professional around here. I've been getting flack for your behavior and I know it's my fault for not explaining it to you in the beginning, but from now on our private business, our home life and everything else, stays out of the lab. Not kissing, no hugging, no talk of personal things. Is that understood?"

She glowered at him, then turned silently and left.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Chapter 1.

AN: Okay – I feel bad… after a tough eppy last night, I am doing this to you. Really, it's all one big angst fest. This is a shorter chapter but more will come sooooon. Thanks again for the amazing feedback. You guys are incredible and as always your kind words inspire me to write. Not to worry, this is a GSR (though some are inclined to think it may head the way of NSR)…I really have no control over the characters and what they do, I know what I intend for them and I have to say, that no matter what - with the characters being who they are - no one will get away unscathed. GRIN. Not beta'd. Forgive me for any imperfections. There are a couple of naughty words in here… Just a few though… **Sorry noticed a few boo boos came in to fix them if you get a second notice that's why...**

**Chapter 13**

Sara Sidle sat on the grass outside the lab; blanket rolled up and pressed against her abdomen, to stave off the nausea she was feeling. It was a dry 104 degrees in the shade but no matter what she did she couldn't chase away the cold that had seeped into her bones. Shaking horrified and hurting, she stared at the burnt out shell of her brand new Toyota Camry hybrid, tendrils of smoke still rising from it despite the fire department's best efforts. The last hour seemed like a blur, and somewhere along the line some kind soul had passed her a cup of coffee, thinking that she probably looked like she needed it.

It sat beside her untouched.

She stared with uncomprehending eyes at the man – a familiar and generally unfriendly face – who'd become her savior. The back of his gray suit jacket was stained with blood, her blood, and it hung loosely over her shoulders.

"You need to be seen by a medic." His face bobbed in front of her vision as he reached for her hand a squeezed it, an unusual act for someone who really didn't like her all that much.

Who'da thunk it…? Conrad Ecklie had a heart. It was buried in there along with the self serving, back slapping, condescending air of importance, but it did, in fact, exist, apparently.

Another voice. "I think she's in shock."

Bernard Sheldon from days, a skinny pock faced young man who looked every bit the geek he was – lab coat, pocket protector and all. He'd been wandering back from the diner across the street chewing on a fully loaded double burger, and doing his best to wipe the ketchup smears off the front of his new orange and white striped shirt, when Ecklie had enlisted his help in pulling her from the burning car. For the first time in his life he'd risen above the status of average, and had become a hero – albeit a hungry one – as the minute he'd heard Ecklie's call he'd dropped his food in the middle of the parking lot where it was immediately pancaked by the arrival of the first fire truck. His stomach grumbled as he shifted his pop bottle glasses up his nose and stared at his boss, speculatively.

"No shit." Ecklie tossed a scathing glance his newest lab rat. "Sara you need to be seen by a doctor."

The slim brunette simply shook her head. I hurt to speak.

"You may need stitches on your knees."

Sara's dumbfounded gaze dropped to the front of her torn and blood stained jeans.

Fuck…

They were her favorite.

Her fingers toyed with the deep scarlet fringes around the holes. It had most definitely been a bitch of a day.

When she didn't answer him, the frustrated Assistant Director indicated the man in a dark gray suit standing next to him. "Detective Malone needs a statement, too." Her eyes settled on the short, squat man, and she noted oddly that the sun was reflecting off his gleaming bald head.

_Sara Sidle's body was heavy and the nausea she'd managed to hold at bay for the entire evening had returned with a vengeance. The burden of exhaustion weighed solidly on her shoulders, as she hauled her kit from the back of the Denali and dumped it into the trunk of her car. _

_She'd managed to survive most of the night working under spotlights out a Red Rock Canyon, with little evidence of her pregnancy rearing its ugly head. But that didn't mean it was an easy case. In fact, it had been just the opposite. The DB out in the desert had turned into two and it looked likely to be a likely murder-suicide. The husband had first killed wife and then possibly in a bout of depression had killed himself. When found the corpses had been three days old, in an advanced state of decomposition, courtesy of the searing Nevada sun._

_Called out on another case, Grissom had been unable to come out and do a collection, so it had fallen to her. _

_Bugs weren't her thing. _

_Add to that the fact that she'd essentially been digging around in the putrid corpses to find a few specimens of each and every type, and it was a miracle she'd managed to keep down the package of saltine's that had mysteriously appeared in her kit that evening. _

_His voice thick with exhaustion, Greg had hollered a tired "see yah later", logged in most of the evidence they'd collected, and then headed home where to he could shower in peace, while Sara had dropped off the bugs in Grissom's office. _

_She'd planned on leaving the photos too, but they were still on the digital card and she knew she couldn't risk leaving it anywhere that wasn't under lock and key. For a moment – but only one – she'd considered sticking around to process them, but that would take at least an hour and she was already in the high end of over time for the month, so instead she locked the card in Cath's office and gave herself some kudos for thinking proactively. She hated the thought that someone at the lab just might be responsible for all of the trouble as of late, but where the case was concerned it was a - better safe that sorry - measure. They would still have a case if the bugs went missing, but not the photos. That was, assuming it was a case at all._

_On her way by the break room she'd topped up her tea, and then headed for the parking lot, cell phone in hand. Despite the fact that she really didn't want to, a phone call to Grissom had been necessary. _

_It was a groggy and somewhat gruff Gil Grissom who'd answered the phone. And for a moment it had caused a twinge in her chest. Memories assaulted her. Visions of laying in the warmth of his arms, the smell of his skin, the gentle timbre of his voice after they'd spent the day making love. Sara had shaken the melancholy off and settled on simply being relieved that it wasn't Alicia on the other end. _

_That would have been just one step closer to a reality she really hadn't need at the moment._

_His voice had softened when he'd realized it was her, and there'd been significance in the silence after her explanation of the night's events. It was almost as though he'd wanted to say something to her but then thought the better of it. Quick goodbyes were exchanged and Sara, who'd been fighting back tears pretty much the entire time, had determined that what Nick had said to her earlier, was right. _

_It was time to take control of her life; value herself and her child. And the first step in doing that, unfortunately, meant letting go. _

_In the past, she would have spent the better part of the day pondering the meaning of the silence between them. _

_No more. _

_Instead, she climbed into her car and began making a few plans…Her mother used to call them happy plans… a mere distraction to take away the pain of everyday life. They were something to look forward to, something to keep her busy, something tenable, like taking a picnic lunch out by the lake, on Saturday. Often times her mother's happy plans would come to fruition, at least the small ones. Lunch by the lake was nice… even if it had meant staring at a woman sporting too black eyes… It was a bitch that some how and in some way reality was always hanging a mere finger's breadth away… just out of her vision but never truly gone. _

_She shoved aside the thought. Her plans would be different. She had the power to make them happen, as long as she kept them focused and reasonable. No more getting lost in the memories of the times she and Grissom had shared together. No more hoping that Alicia would simply vanish off the face of the Earth._

_Small attainable things like; she needed pick up the real estate news, so she could look for a new apartment._

_Shoving the key into the ignition, and turning she waited for the hum of the engine, her mind already beginning to make a list._

_There was baby furniture to be bought, clothing, supplies… the next eight months would pass far too quickly. She should maybe liquidate a few of her investments. She'd have to look into schools… okay that was a little ahead of the game but a good education was important. A smile had spread to her lips despite the nausea, and it had died just as quickly as heat by her feet drew her attention towards the underside the dashboard._

_From that moment on the events were a blur. _

_The fire spread quickly across the carpeting of the floor._

_Panicked she pulled her feet up, swatted at her pant legs, and reached anxioiusly for the door handle only to find that it wouldn't open. Thick smoke was already filling the car and instinct suddenly kicked in. Climbing over the backseat, she tried both doors._

_Nothing…_

_Coughs began to wrack her body. Pulling a sweater off the back window, she used it to cover her mouth and nose. _

_Everything in the car was automatic. Windows… Doors…FUCK!_

_Horrified, she searched frantically for something to break the window with, but came up empty handed, and time was running out. At this point it was getting difficult to see her hand in front of her face. _

_Desperate she dropped onto her back and began to kick hysterically at the window, hoping to break the glass. But her shoes were soft and she couldn't get any leverage. _

_Why had she changed from her boots?_

_The flames had moved to the faux leather of her front car seat, making the temperature rise exponentially. They licked at the roof of the Camry, and the front window._

_Her eyes felt like they were on fire, and breathing was becoming even more difficult. She slowed it, doing her best to douse the terror and make her breaths shallower; hoping it would buy her a small amount of time._

_The terrified brunette kicked again, the strain of the impact shooting up her calf muscles. _

_Quickly, the edge of her vision began to fray, and she knew unconsciousness wasn't far off. "One more…!" She ordered, and dropped the sweater onto the floor. Gritting her teeth, she braced her hands against the seats, demanding her body do the impossible. A second later she was amazed and elated when the glass exploded on impact._

_Gasping and choking Sara clawed her way towards the open window only to feel two strong arms hold her in place._

"_Just wait Sara…The remaining glass is jagged." _

_Conrad Ecklie._

_She wanted to tell him she didn't fucking care, cuts were nothing, compared to third degree burns, but a instant later those same arms, with the help of another's, were pulling her from the car. _

_There were a few moments of intense pain as the edges of the glass made its way through the jacket he'd thrown over it, and into her knees. _

_Next she was lying on the hill alone trying to swallow down the pain in her raw throat and staring with unseeing eyes at the brilliant blue sky while the firemen worked to flood the burnt out vehicle that used to be hers._

"So the doors wouldn't open?" Detective Malone leaned in doing his best to hear the hoarse words of the young woman on the ground.

Sara shook her head and sipped the water one of the medics had passed her. Her lungs still burned in her chest, making each consecutive breath harder.

"What hell happened…?" A panicked and still pajama clad Gil Grissom ambled his way quickly up the hill, his eyes traveling furiously between the smoldering car, the three men, and a soot-smudged Sara Sidle who was sitting cross legged on the ground.

"Gil." Conrad who, was never one to be truly happy about seeing his nightshift supervisor, was actually relieved when the man came to stand beside him. With a nod, he indicated the car. "It was in flames when we pulled her out. She should be seen by a medic, but she's not listening to me."

"Sara…" Worried blue eyes met brown, and he reached out and grabbed her hand. "Come on..." With a quick tug he'd helped her up off the ground, and slipped his arm around her slim waist.

Still shaking like a leaf, it was all Sara could do but to lean on him and cling to him for dear life. She knew it was wrong, but at in that moment it was what she needed.

They'd almost made it his car when Ecklie caught up to them. "What are you doing?"

"What you called me to do." He indicated his Mercedes, "I'm taking care of the situation."

"She needs to be seen by an EMT and Malone has more questions for her too." The assistant lab director raked his eyes across the man in front of him.

"I'm taking Sara to the hospital, and he can wait until later for his answers." A small bleep sounded as he popped the locks on his doors and with Conrad's help settled Sara into the passenger's seat.

A hacking cough broke through the young woman's chest and she crumpled a little more. Her head falling back towards the seat, she closed her eyes and tried not to think about the fact that she was in another vehicle and that her stomach was still roiling.

"What do you want me to do with the car?" Sporting a soot stained shirt, and pants Ecklie swiped front of his clothes and then indicated the tow truck that just pulled in.

"Have it towed to the CSI garage."

Conrad Ecklie stared at the man in front of him. "Not the dump?"

As if his response was elemental and clearly something the assistant director should have realized on his own, Grissom grimaced. "It was a brand new car. They don't just catch fire, Conrad. Someone's responsible."

With that he turned, rounded his own vehicle and got in. A moment later they were gone.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

AN: This one was a bit of a bugger to write. Sorry for the wait. But it's here. No beta. No bad language. Weirdness abounds. Forgive me. Thanks for your amazing feedback. It keeps me writing... **IF YOU GET A SECOND NOTICE FOR THIS CHAPTER IGNORE IT. I MADE A FEW CORRECTIONS... typos only.**

**Chapter 14**

Sara Sidle had fallen asleep.

Call it stress, exhaustion, trauma or the energy required to support a tiny life form, the second she'd laid her head back against Gil Grissom's car seat, her minutes were numbered. The next time she opened her eyes she was parked outside the emergency room entrance at Desert Palms, the concerned blue orbs of her former lover staring back at her as she fought off the fog that seemed to have possessed her.

During the ride there, she'd missed out on the longing glances he'd thrown her way, and had been unable to see the regret in his sapphire eyes, as he examined her present state. Had she been able to read minds she might possibly have understood the pain that was sitting just under the surface of his every day thoughts. But as it was, the only thing she did get to experience was the feel of his hand on her cheek as he caressed it tenderly.

"Sara…"

She blinked her eyes stinging.

"I'm just going to get someone with a wheelchair."

She shook her head, and tried to fight off the lethargy that had settled into her bones. Then she tried to get out of the car only to crumple into the arms of a man she had no right to even be touching. It felt good in the shelter of his solid embrace, but she couldn't allow herself the comfort.

"I'm okay…" She mumbled her voice rough and sore as she tried pull away.

"Sure you are…" He ignored her protests, helped her back into the car and winced at the strain on his knees as he did so. "Stay here, I'll be back in a minute."

She really didn't have a choice but to listen. Her legs were being uncooperative.

A moment later he returned; his red and blue dragonfly pajama's and matching red t-shirt painting a fascinating picture against stark white brick of the hospital wall. Beside him stood a petite Asian nurse, looking both concerned and flummoxed at Sara's state.

"She was groggy in the car." Grissom was saying as the two pulled up to the vehicle. "She likely has some smoke inhalation issues, and she may need stitches."

The slim brunette wanted to protest being treated like she wasn't there at all, but her tongue was really being disobliging.

"She may have some airway trauma…" The nurse indicated and moved to one side as Grissom moved to the other. "Being exposed to burning plastic, or burning anything for that matter, can cause some swelling." Together they helped the young woman into the chair and turned towards the entrance. "How long was she in the car?"

Grissom shook his head. "I don't know."

"Five minutes." The words stung her throat and both pairs of eyes looked down at her horrified. "Maybe ten..." She added, though in her mind's eye it had felt like an eternity.

"We're going to need to give you some oxygen, and check your windpipe." The nurse leaned in and patted her shoulder as they moved through the sliding doors of the emergency room. On her way by the desk she grabbed a clip board and then casting a glance at the pajama clad Grissom, she snatched up a pen from there as well. "Sheila can put Ms….?" She dropped her eyes to her soot covered patient.

"Sidle…" Grissom offered.

"Put Ms. Sidle up on the board. I'm going to put her in room four."

The large hulk of a woman scowled in the other nurse's direction, but did as asked.

A tight smile crossed the first nurse's face as then she led them to a private examination room. "You're lucky that most of Vegas prefers to get into trouble at night. It's a pretty slow morning." Her smile turned genuine as Grissom took the board she passed to him, tucked it under his arm, and then angled the wheelchair in front of a gurney.

With a little help from the two of them Sara found herself immediately supine on the small bed and hooked up to both an O2 sat machine and nasal canula with an efficiency that was almost scary.

Raising the head of the bed, the nurse shifted her eyes to the SAT machine and watched as the glowing red numbers bobbed in front of her on the digital display. "We'll see now you respond to the canula, but if your numbers don't go up quickly then I'm going to have to put a full mask on you." She quickly checked the rest of Sara's vitals, and then did a cursory examination of her knees. "Most of these are punctures, but a couple of them may need a stitch or two."

Sara was barely listening. Grissom had moved into the corner and was busily filling out forms. The intimacy of it, the fact that he knew her well enough to be able to answer the questions on the paperwork, brought a lump to the young woman's throat. She swallowed it down and fought back tears.

She had loved him forever.

It may have been the look on the young CSI's face or simply standard procedure, but the nurse excused herself and returned almost immediately with a glass of cool water and a small medication cup in hand. With a smile she passed them to Sara, her eyebrows hitting her forehead when the slim brunette refused the medication but gulped the water. "It's just a couple of Tylenol to help with the pain and inflammation; we'll give you something stronger after."

At this Grissom looked up and moved over to Sara. He passed the forms back to the Nurse, whose name tag read "Trixie" and ran a soothing hand down Sara's arm. "You should take them."

She shook her head, and cursed herself for not already having booked an appointment with an OB. It would have been somewhat helpful to know what if any medications she could take during her pregnancy. For what it was worth she had managed to pick up the prenatal vitamins, but she really needed to see a specialist. "I'm okay." Was all she said, her fingers absently toying with the sheet the nurse had used to cover her and her mind shooing away the comfort his touch was bringing her.

"Sara…" Grissom was about to launch into the importance of doing what the nurse was suggesting when the door to the room swung open and a disheveled Nick flew in.

He'd clearly been in bed when the call had come in as Sara was pretty certain that the paint stained track pants, matching holey blue t-shirt and Italian grandpa sandals he was wearing were something the young man would never normally be caught dead in, at least not in public. Add to that the fact that his hair was standing completely on end and one would have a pretty good idea of what a sleepy Nick Stokes looked like.

"What happened…?" The Texan's dark eyes moved from the nurse to Grissom and final settled on a soot smeared Sara.

"Her car caught fire." Grissom's hand inadvertently moved to caress an errant strand of hair from the pretty brunette's face, causing a mix of emotions to scatter across the younger man's features.

"It was new." A dark look passed through younger man's eyes.

Grissom nodded grimly. There was no need for words since they both knew that a manufacturer's fault was unlikely.

"The doctor should be in, in a minute." the nurse still carrying the medication and clipboard turned to leave. She'd just reached for the door, when it swung open, and a tall dark haired Latino man entered. The tag on his chest claimed he was Dr. Eduardo Heffe.

"Ms. Sidle?" He accepted the file the nurse was holding out to him and moved past Nick as the other woman left the room. Casting a quick glance at the SAT monitor he frowned, and tugged the small clip off of Sara's finger and placed it on another. "Your SAT level is a little low… I'm going to lay you down completely and put a mask on you. Better for lung perfusion." He read the vitals off her file. "Can I ask you to lean forward a little?"

Sara complied, doing her best to ignore the other two men in the room, who at this point had resorted to a staring contest of sorts.

"Your lungs are a little congested. Open up." He pulled a tongue depressor from its wrapper and slipped it into her mouth. Dr. Heffe clucked his own tongue. "You're throat is very red." He pulled back and tossed the small piece of wood into a nearby waste basket. "I'm going to order a puffer for you. It's a steroid. Not too strong but it will help with the inflammation and congestion for a few days until you have had a chance to heal."

Sara shook her head. "Can't I do something else?" Her throat ached and her voice belied this.

"I don't understand?" The doctor looked confused.

"I'd rather not have the medication if I can avoid it." A worried look was painted on her black streaked face. She already knew the doctor's next question, and turned to Nick with fear in her eyes.

"Hey Boss, can I talk to you outside?" Grissom's eyes fell on Sara, but Nick was insistent. "Cath said you wanted me to come in tonight, to go over the car. It's about that."

"I'm a bit of a naturalist when it comes to healing." Sara plowed on before the physician could ask why. She wasn't lying, either. She generally hated hospitals with a passion. To her they were a place of pain and bad memories. The smell alone was often enough to initiate the fight or flight response in her. As such, there had to be a limb hanging off or pain beyond that which was tolerable to get her even to go to the doctor's. The only thing that had forced her to allow herself to be taken to the hospital was the small secret she was carrying in the safety of her womb; her main concern being the effect of the long term exposure to the possibly toxic smoke on him or her. "I prefer holistic methods." That wasn't really a lie, though it sounded pretty flimsy even to her own ears. The slim brunette looked up at Grissom who appeared determined to put the conversation with Nick off until after she'd been fully taken care of. "It's okay. I'll be fine." She went so far as to squeeze his hand and offer him a small smile. "It's not like I'm going anywhere." She intoned with a shuddering sigh. "And I really would like to find out who turned my new car into a barbeque pit."

"Me too." Nick glowered and headed towards the hallway, hoping to hell that the nightshift supervisor would get he hint and follow him. He didn't want to resort to carrying the man, and he knew Sara needed a few moments of privacy to talk to the doctor.

It was a reluctant Grissom who made his way out after the younger man. "Let the doctor do what he has to, Sara." He turned back a worry mixed with regret and fear shining in his blue eyes. "I'll be back in a minute."

Sara nodded and waited until the door had closed fully behind her former lover before turning to the doctor.

A small smile played on the man's face. "How far along are you?"

There was an obvious question in her eyes. "How did you…?"

The doctor smirked and lowered the bed she was on until she was completely flat. "The only women I have ever seen refuse any kind of medication when they're in pain, are pregnant women and recovering addicts…" He pulled the nasal canula off of her and placed a full mask over her nose and mouth then added. "You don't look like an addict to me."

She wanted to protest that she was. She was addicted to self torture. Instead, she forced herself to relax, as he pulled the sheet up and took a look at her knees. "About a month and a bit..." She responded to his question, though the words sounded small and distant through the O2 mask.

"Well the ventolin I am going to prescribe for you will be safe to use, because it's only for a few days. I understand your concern, but I wouldn't offer it to you if it were unsafe." He poked and prodded at one particular gash on her knee drawing a quick pain filled "Ouch!" out of her.

"There are two cuts here that will need a little stitching. The anesthetic will be local only." The doctor patted her hand, and stared at her with soulful dark eyes.

Sara nodded, her own dark orbs fluttering closed. She was exhausted to the core and still somewhat nauseated thought it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been for the previous two days. Her hand moved to her stomach protectively. "Will my baby be okay? I mean all the smoke…"

"It's far too early to detect a heart beat, so I can't tell you for certain. But I would say that while you're likely to have a sore throat for a few days, and some pretty haunting memories, I imagine, for the most part your baby was well protected, and you're injuries are minor." He looked up as the nurse returned to the room with a small suture kit in hand.

Trixie smiled at young CSI on the gurney and then flicked her eyes towards the monitor she was hooked up to. "I'd say you have a couple of pretty big admirers out there."

Sara rolled her eyes and breathed deeply allowing the oxygen to perfuse her lungs. She didn't want to know anything about what was going on outside the door. Ignorance was bliss.

"I brought some Ativan if you want." The nurse placed the cup at the bedside table. "It will calm you down…"

"No." The doctor shook his head, and grabbed the suture kit Trixie was preparing. "Sara here is going to be a mom; she's worried about her little one, so we can give her some Tylenol, instead."

At the use of the term, her eyes flickered open and she did her best to ignore the rawness of her throat. "Can we keep the mom part on the down low doc?"

Trixie and the doctor exchanged glances, and then both nodded.

"Thanks." She closed her eyes again and contemplated the word mom. It brought both a jolt of terror and a feeling of comfort to her. At some time both of those feelings would need to be melded into some kind of compromise.

"I'm going to roll your pant legs up." The nurse informed her.

Sara nodded and grimaced as a moment later there was a spark of pain as the jeans were peeled back off of the dried blood, tugging at the jagged cuts.

"A small prick now Sara." It was Dr. Heffe and he'd only given her a mere second of warning before plunging the needle into her tender knee.

She gritted her teeth against the sting; despite this she couldn't stop a short gasp of pain from escaping.

"Hey that's nothing compared to the pain of childbirth, right Trix." The doctor grinned and felt around the wound, making sure the area was numb.

"Oh yeah…" The petite Asian woman agreed. "I thought for sure I was going to be split in half." She looked at the young woman on the gurney. She was tall and gangly but very slim. "You're OB may recommend a section for you, Love."

Another moan escaped Sara. That was yet something else she didn't want to think about. Denial was a good thing sometimes.

* * *

"It can't have been an accident." Nick stared at his boss trying to keep a straight face despite the dragonfly pajama bottoms. Not that he, himself, looked any better, but somehow he couldn't help but wonder if they were Grissom's idea of seductive lounge wear? Hardly hot, even by male standards, but he supposed that where the tall brunette was concerned, it might just do the trick. 

"That's why I had it towed to the CSI garage." Gil Grissom was impatient; he wanted to be back in the room with Sara. He was well aware of her hatred for hospitals and the medical establishment in general, it was a conversation they'd had while they were dating. He'd kissed away her reservations at the time; he wished he could do the same now.

"But this goes beyond…" He chased away the thought. He wanted to tell him about the missing evidence, and everything that Catherine had shared with him, but he'd promised to keep it between them until they figured out who was behind it. He had a good idea why the secrecy was necessary, but he didn't like it for numerous reasons. Instead, Nick settled on something that the man in front of him was aware of. "Remember the blood sample? It didn't make any sense the other day. Maybe these two things are related?"

Grissom nodded. "Maybe, but it's a big leap from a misplaced sample to setting someone's car on fire while they're in it." The things missing in the lab had started with Catherine a few months previously. It had driven her crazy at the time, but everything seemed to have quieted down. And she hadn't said anything about personal attacks. He wasn't sure the two incidents were connected especially to Sara. "Aside from which, the missing sample could be just that, a missing sample, not something diabolical. It could have just been an isolated incident. People do occasionally misplace items, even at the lab."

"Sara? Come on…" The younger man shook his head. "She's as meticulous as they come. There are days she could put an OCD person to shame."

Grissom knew he was right, but the thought that someone might be out to get her was almost paralyzing. Doing his job for as many years as he had he knew that nine times out of ten a situation like that was next to impossible to protect against. "Even if someone took the sample, or moved it, it doesn't mean they two situations are linked."

"Do you really think that?"

"I honestly don't know what to think, Nick. Not yet. You're getting ahead of the evidence. And I'm not sure what you are basing your assumptions on."

"How about the fact that her car looks like the like the ground floor of hell?" The Texan placed his hands on his hips, wishing he could connect all the dots for the man in front of him, but that would mean betraying a Catherine's confidence. Nick reigned in his anger; he really couldn't blame his boss for not seeing what was obvious to him. It was hard to solve a case especially when you only had access to half the evidence. "You don't think it's possible that someone is out to get Sara?"

"I think it's very possible. I wouldn't rule anything out. We've all put our share of crazies away. I'm just not sure the sample is related." Grissom's thick fingers worked his temples in an attempt to massage away burgeoning headache. "What we need to do is try and find out who and why." Grissom took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

"You know what I think? I think it's someone at the lab." He couldn't help it he had to throw it out there.

The nightshift supervisor looked at him like he'd sprouted horns. "That's a pretty big leap."

"Yeah, okay…so call it a hunch, but I believe someone working at the lab is behind the sample and the fire." Nick knew it sounded crazy. "And that means that while the car is in the garage any evidence in it could disappear."

Grissom watched as Trixie made her way back into the room, suture kit in hand. "Fine. Then I'll take Sara home. You go to the lab and start collecting."

Nick was about to protest, but his boss cut him off.

"It's your theory. Run with it. I'll join you once I get Sara settled in her apartment." The graveyard supervisor turned to follow the path the nurse had taken.

"If someone's out to get her she can't be left alone." Nick trailed close behind. He didn't want Grissom taking her home and he didn't want to think about why.

"She won't be." The older man assured the other CSI and then stepped back into the examination room as the doctor was putting the first stitch in place.

The Texan wasn't sure what it was that came over him at that moment but he couldn't help himself. He moved ahead and walked a round the nurse who was busily handing things to the doctor. Placing his hand on Sara's forehead, he allowed his fingers to run through her silky hair and waited as her eyes opened lazily. "I'm going back to the lab. I'm going to check out your car." He cast a glance at the older man who was staring at their perceived intimacy with an aggrieved expression. "Gris is going to take you home." Then in a moment of utter possessiveness, he drew back the mask covering her mouth and placed a careful and demanding kiss on her lips.

A second later he was gone.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: chapter 1

AN: Thanks for your patience. This is a weird chapter, hope you like it. Let me know either way your reviews inspire me. No bad words really. No beta… you know what that means. I apologize in advance. **THIS IS A REPOST OF THE SAME CHAPTER needed a few gramatical clean ups... that's all...**

**Chapter 15

* * *

**

Sara was fairly certain that she shouldn't have taken both the ventolin and the Tylenol. Not because they were going to cause her or baby harm, but rather because now that she wasn't feeling any real pain, pretending to do so was simply being dishonest.

Pretending to sleep was also out of the question. Not because she wasn't tired because quite frankly, she was exhausted, but because she could feel him staring at her with questions in his eyes, every time she tried to drift off.

She'd been released with sutures in her knees, a painkiller, a puffer and strict instructions to take it easy for a few days.

Easy wasn't a word she was familiar with. And if it involved staying home from work for any length of time it was also something she wasn't likely to be conducive to. This was something she'd told Grissom in no uncertain terms as he'd helped her into the car.

He'd ignored the comment entirely. It wasn't a conversation he was willing to have with her. Besides, in a moment of complete and utter supremacy he decided that he was the boss, and that was that. She would simply have no choice but to do what she was told with regards to work. He didn't actually say this to her because he still wanted to live for a few more years, but it was an attitude that came through in his silence.

He hoped.

Her sulking and his perceived authority in the matter made for a silent car ride home. And it would have been almost peaceful if Sara hadn't been frantically wondering what if anything she may have left out that would be a clue to her current state. Her prenatal vitamins had been safely stowed in her purse, which due to circumstances was probably little more than a smoking ruin, along with the rest of her car. So that concern was eliminated. That would mean the only other evidence there was floating around her apartment, would be a single baby magazine and a book she'd picked up; one about the actual childbirth process. That, she knew was still safely tucked away inside of its Barnes and Noble bag… Fear had gotten the better of her and she'd put off unpacking it entirely. Sometimes, she concluded, the unknown was less terrifying. But the other item, the magazine might actually have been left somewhere visible.

There was a moment of utter horror when she spotted the item in question sitting innocently on the coffee table as they entered her apartment; fortunately, it tucked amidst a few other magazines and not readily visible to anyone not looking specifically for it. She grimaced slightly did her best to ignore it assuming that if she didn't make an issue of it Grissom might not notice.

Thankfully she was right.

It was with great care that he'd led her to the couch, shuffling aside a few of the pillows there and helping her to settle in. The faux leather shifted and then soon warmed beneath her making her want to drift off to sleep.

Grissom stared at Sara, his heart clinching. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and caressed one smooth cheek. He could see the fatigue in her eyes and a flicker of pain in response to his touch. "I'll fix you some tea." He stood and made his way through her all too familiar apartment.

"It's okay…" She watched as he sauntered into her small kitchen, and then when his back was fully turned slipped the magazine under the couch. "You don't have to baby sit me. I'm a big girl. I'll be fine."

"I want to." He reached into the cupboard where she kept a mix of teas, and pulled out a few. Holding them up, he motioned in her direction. "Any preference?"

The sight of him standing in her kitchen brought back a flood of memories, something she did her best not to show him. Swallowing down the lump in her throat she turned her eyes away, and shook her head. "Uh…no...Anything…" Having him in her home was harder than she'd expected it to be. All at once she was overcome by the need to yell at him to just go. But her heart got the better of her, and it wouldn't let the words come out.

In the kitchen Grissom was being blindsided by his own set of memory induced emotions.

Early on in their relationship they had spent a lot of time in her apartment. It had been her choice. He'd invited her over to his townhouse a few times, but she'd always turned it around and told him to come by her place instead... One time after making love, he'd asked her why.

She'd simply rolled on top of him and kissed him on the mouth, before telling him that she liked the smell of him on her sheets. And after that they'd spent the better half of that evening working his scent into her mattress as well.

From that point on he'd gotten into the habit of packing a few extra items when he left for work and spending the day if she asked. During those times, in the early evening after waking in each other's arms he would fiddle around in the kitchen, making breakfast and coffee or tea for the two of them.

It had been achingly domestic and had filled an empty place in him that he'd never new existed until it was gone.

He didn't cook for Alicia; some how it felt like a betrayal. Instead, they would pick up something out. Or order in. It was expensive but suited him fine. It was easier to grab a plastic or paper tub of something and hide in his home office, anyway.

In the beginning he'd been afforded a small comfort by the lack of copious memories lingering in his townhouse. But recently things had changed. He missed not having that. After all, the few times they'd been there it had been limited to a quick demanding round of lovemaking and then off to somewhere else. It seemed lacking the warmth and comfort of what they'd built together in her small apartment. Not to say that there weren't traces of her clinging to the walls, there were, but none of them could scare away the fact that it was the stiff smell of tide on his sheets, and not the smell of a quiescent Sara that lulled him to sleep at night. If he slept at all, that was.

Sleepless days were becoming very familiar to him. He couldn't help but wonder if it was Nick's smell mingled in her sheets now. And that thought alone caused an insurmountable level of pain. Not that he blamed her or Nick for seeking out happiness with each other, and not that he had a right to have an opinion on the matter at all. But it still hurt. The vision of the younger man's mouth one hers had been like a knife to the heart.

Grissom shook off the thought and prepared her tea ball. Settling on the Chamomile, her recent favorite blend and one they'd picked out together at a local Japanese tea shop, he opened the small steel ball and tucked the leaves carefully inside. Then, much as he had done many times before, he picked up the nearby kettle, filled it and placed it on the stove.

Cheerless blue eyes glanced at the young woman lying on the couch. Her own dark orbs were closed so he allowed himself a moment of indulgence. Sara Sidle's hair was a mess, her skin stained black, and her clothes all but destroyed. Yet, to him, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

If he could have, he would have boxed up their time together as tangible memories; something he could open up and relive when he was bored, lonely, or hurting. All of which were emotions he'd become achingly familiar with over the past month.

Checking the kettle he moved to sit beside her on the couch, his hand coming to rest on hers. "Sara…"

Her eyes fluttered open and she threw him a small smile. "Almost fell asleep there."

"I would say you could skip the almost, and I was more than willing to let you snooze but I think maybe you should have a quick shower." He indicated the bathroom. "Hop in, clean up and I'll make you a little soup."

She stared at her ragged clothes, and the soot smeared skin of her arms. "Yeah I guess I should." She stood and began dropping a trail of clothes on her way into the washroom. By the time her feet hit the cool tile of the bathroom floor, all that was left was her bra and underwear. These she removed after the door had been shut and locked.

Grissom's chest hurt.

A little over a month ago she wouldn't have locked the door.

* * *

A low whistle escaped the woman as Catherine inspected the burnt out hulk of Sara's new car. There was very little left of it except for charred metal. She stared at the younger man whose sandal clad feet were really the only thing showing and waited as he extracted himself from the wreckage. "I see you drew garage duty…"

Nick rolled out from under the vehicle with a huff, a patch of grease smudged across his cheek. He rubbed at it animatedly; his face bearing a look that said he was less than impressed with his task. "Yeah…"

"Find anything yet?" She placed the file she was carrying on the tool caddy and continued to inspect the wreckage.

"Sure, soot, oil, and shit all…"

The older woman nodded and crouched in front of the car. "So what are you thinking?" Sporting a coffee, Catherine studied the Texan who was now leaning up against a blackened door.

Stripping off his gloves he tossed them into a nearby brown paper bag in disgust. "You mean other than the fact that I got the bitch job in the deal?" He grimaced. "I think that someone tried to kill Sara." His words were grave.

Catherine nodded solemnly. "Okay. So what's the problem with processing her car then?"

Nick squinted not sure how much he should say and then decided to toss the whole thing out there for her. "Just that Grissom doesn't think this is connected to the missing sample, which we both know is the case." His eyes were dark as he glowered. "He really should know the rest of the story, about you, the rock, and the missing evidence… all of it." He took another stab at cleaning his cheek, this time with the back of his hand and only managed to spread the smear around.

"Well we don't actually know this is related to the other stuff." The older woman pointed out.

"No… don't do this to me, Cath. It has to be." His expression was hard.

"I admit it's very likely, but until we know for sure, be can't focus on that one thing only." She stood up and placed her coffee on a nearby table. "Rule number one in the CSI manual, Nicky, you know that."

"Well when I told Grissom my theory, without giving him the details. He told me to run with it and then sent me here." He words were almost petulant as they fell from his mouth.

"And where's Sara?"

"At home. With him."

His former boss couldn't help but laugh. "Jealous Nick?" She patted his knee.

Nick Stokes shook his head, and did his best to hide the blush that had crept across his face. "It's not that, it's just. Well…" He gave up trying to explain. To get into details would require a little more honesty with Catherine than he could offer up at the moment.

"Don't worry. She's with you, and carrying your baby, so I don't think Grissom is anything to worry about." She grabbed a copy of the police report she'd picked up on her way into the lab. "Even if they do have a history." She added.

Nick groaned and rolled his eyes at the woman's tease. "That's not it." It wasn't he assured himself. It was just that Sara was like a sister to him. She was pregnant and hurting and the man who had caused both of those things was sitting there with her in her apartment. He couldn't help it if the whole situation made him feel protective of her. "Someone tried to kill her. And I'm sitting here digging through this mess."

The blonde woman tore her attention away from the report she was reading and nodded. "Well the way I see it, you are where you need to be. Sara's in good hands, and who would you rather go over this vehicle? Grissom won't be the one doing it; Warrick and I are still working another case, so that leaves you, Alicia and Greg…" She flipped a page and then stared at the diagram of the parking lot and a few of the photos that had been taken before the car had been moved. "I think Greg's going to be a great CSI eventually, but you decide… Who would you rather have work it?"

Another moan escaped the Texan and he dropped back onto the dolly. "Point taken…" He said, and rolled back under the car.

"There's not much in the report." She flipped to the last page where Sara's statement was pinned to the folder. "Says here she couldn't open the door."

Nick rolled out again. "So someone rigged it not to open?"

"Well they're automatic locks, right?" Catherine moved over and looked them. The nubs were almost flush with the door. "Closed these would have been very hard to open manually, and in a panicked state… forget it."

"All it would take would be for someone to short the system." Nick angrily ran his fingers through his hair.

The blonde woman nodded silently and turned to leave. "Maybe the same short started the fire."

A cold fear washed over Nick as he slid back under the vehicle.

* * *

"Thanks…" Sara stared at the soup Grissom had placed in front of her. It was a vegan mock chicken, her favorite. He'd positioned some crackers beside it and passed her the tea he'd brewed. "But you didn't have to do this."

Soulful blue eyes connected with brown. "I wanted to."

His heart had almost stopped beating at the sight of her as she'd exited the bathroom. It had the familiar feeling of intimacy about it and was almost his undoing. Dressed in her usual navy velour bathrobe, and barefoot, her damp ringlets had bounced lightly as she'd climbed onto the stool in front of the breakfast bar. It had reminded him far too much of the void that had washed through his life, and the everyday things that used to fill it.

The slim brunette pulled her robe around her a little tighter, and dropped her eyes to the bowl in front of her. The nausea was back, it wasn't too bad, but she had a feeling the smell was setting it off. She picked up a cracker and munched on it. "You don't have to stay. I'll be fine you know."

Grissom shook his head. "How can you say that after what happened to your car?"

Sara shook her head. "I'm actually trying not to think about that right now."

"You need to Sara, and you can't stay here on your own." A heavy sigh escaped him and he slumped onto the barstool beside her. What he wanted to do was pick her up carry her to the bedroom, and promise her that he would make it so that no one ever touched her again. What he did was place his hand under her chin and force her to look at him.

"You should go home." She was calm as she said it to him, despite the flicker of pain his touch was causing.

"What if I don't want to?"

"That's not an option." She shook her head and downed another cracker with a sip of tea. "You have a fiancé, and baby Grissom on the way." The words almost lodged in her throat, but she choked them free.

He closed his eyes, and leaned in his lips coming in contact with her forehead. He savored the moment. For the first time in a long time he felt alive again.

Sara couldn't help herself she gave him a swift hug, and then swiftly let go.

"God, what are we doing, Sara?" He mumbled against the heat of her skin, his voice barely a whisper.

The sensation was unexpected and enthralling all at once, she reveled in it for a moment and then placing her hand against his chest, pushed at him lightly. "We're doing the right thing." She smiled sadly at him.

"What if I don't want to, anymore?"

This was a strange Gil Grissom, one Sara had never seen before. He was generally a man of few words; and not someone who readily showed his emotions. He'd just begun to open up when their relationship had ended. This Grissom was wide open, the look on his face telling her everything she wanted to hear but at the same time didn't want to know. It unnerved her, and thrilled her all at the same time. She ordered her heart to stop and demanded it listen to her head. "You can't mean that." Someone had to be strong for both of them.

He allowed her to push him back, but didn't leave her personal space. Instead, he placed both hands on either side of her seat and leaned in his cerulean eyes invading her soul. "Sara, who's to say what's right in this whole mess?" He stopped at the hurt in her eyes.

"Gil we agreed…We both have to move on." Her voice was soft, but held the strength of determination. She shook her head.

He stared at her a moment. She already had and he knew he should let her be happy. He nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry." He kissed the tip of her nose and then backed away. His warm fingers encircled those of her right hand and he squeezed it lightly before moving back to his seat. "This situation is just…very hard."

She swiped lightly at a single tear that had caught in the corner of one eye. "Doing the right thing usually is."

He gazed at her and gave a stiff nod. The problem was the more he thought about it, the less he thought that what he was doing was right. He didn't voice this though; instead he nudged her tea towards her. "You scared me today."

A tight smile played across her face. "I scared me today." She shivered slightly at the memory. With shaking fingers she grabbed another cracker, and munched on it.

"I have to go in tonight." He told her, regret painting his voice.

"Then you really should go home." She added taking the tea more to appease him than because she actually wanted some. "I'll be fine here." It was the second time they'd had this conversation in a short period of time and she knew even as she said the words he wasn't going to listen. One thing that few people knew about her former lover- he could be damn stubborn when he wanted to.

"Finish your soup. Get some sleep. I'm going to stay until Brass gets here." Stepping around the counter the entomologist rinsed the pot with the same methodical skill he used at work and then put it in the dishwasher.

"I already gave my statement to the officer at the scene." The slim brunette spooned a little of the soup into her mouth, at the same time hoping she could keep it down. She grimaced, it had cooled and the overwhelming taste of soy had permeated it making it kind of gross. It was best eaten hot.

"It's his night off; he volunteered to stay with you." The Grissom grinned at he eye roll Sara tossed in his direction.

"Volunteered?" She sighed heavily, took another spoonful of mock chicken soup and then pushed the bowl away. "You know, that's really not necessary."

"I have a burnt out Toyota in the garage at CSI that says differently." Gil Grissom supervisor was back; his voice grave and temperament all business.

The young woman shrugged. "It could have been a mechanical glitch."

"Nick doesn't seem to think so." There was a question in Grissom's eyes as he said the younger man's name, and that was Sara's cue to run. Leaving Catherine to her mistaken beliefs was one thing. Outright lying to her former lover was an entirely different beast. In an attempt to avoid the conversation entirely, Sara forced a yawn, slid off the chair, and headed wordlessly towards the bedroom. A moment later she returned with a blanket and pillow from her bed.

"You should grab a few hours of rest it you have to work tonight." With that she dropped the items on the couch and disappeared into her room.

Within ten minutes Grissom had cleaned up and lay on the couch his head tucked into a pillow that bore the distinct scent of Sara Sidle, as he drifted off to sleep.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: chapter 1

AN: Wow… the last chapter took a whole week to write; I struggled with it and cajoled the characters into giving up their story. This one flew onto the screen much easier, and ended up being way longer than I anticipated. Some of you have been asking if this is going to end up a GSR. The answer is…YES. It may take a few corkscrews to get there, but at some point we will arrive at the station. However, I would like to add that no one will get out of this unscathed. Remember this is not beta'd and frankly I am too tired to reread it tonight. Forgive me if I end up reposting later but I want to put this up on FFnet now. Thanks to all of you who are reviewing. You are the reason I write. And your words are kind.

**Tree 16**

The door to Gil Grissom's office was closed but from outside it anyone walking down the hall could hear the high pitched voice of a certain red head. What they couldn't hear, thankfully for the owner of the office, was the actual conversation.

"You were gone the entire fucking afternoon and evening." Alicia was pacing, her face almost the same vibrant red as her hair. Body language alone would have told anyone that she was livid. However, he either didn't care or the visual was lost on Grissom entirely.

The nightshift supervisor eyed his reports a little longer, the exhaustion he'd kicked earlier was back with a vengeance and it was only the beginning of shift. He slumped visibly. "Look, when someone on my shift is hurt or in danger they are my responsibility."

"Yeah, like you would have come running if it was anyone other than your precious Sara." The young woman turned again, her pacing more frantic.

"I would have." Grissom leveled her with piercing blue eyes. There was a challenge in them.

"Sure you would." She scowled her face turning ugly. "And you would spend the day taking care of them too, right?"

Reaching for a pen, Grissom slowly signed off on the report in front of him and then silently flipped the file closed. He was torn. He really wanted to tell her to get the hell out of his office and never come back, but the reality of it was, in doing that he was condemning a child to death. His own child…He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Depending on whom it is, yes."

She swung around moving into yet another pacing fit. "I see, so if the person wears a skirt and sports some cleavage then she's fair game?"

"What?" Grissom shook his head. Standing up, he slapped the files into two piles trying to work off some of the anger coursing through his veins.

"I bet if it was Nick, or Warrick or Greg, you would have dropped them home and come back to bed." She fired at him.

"Nick, Catherine and Greg all have family who could come and stay with them. Warrick and Sara don't." Grissom grabbed his baseball cap off its hook and tucked it under his arm. "Jealousy is an ugly emotion Alicia."

"We were supposed to meet with the chaplain for the wedding this afternoon. This is the second time you've put it off. And just the other day you couldn't even make the time to come to the OB appointment to see our baby for the first time."

She'd switched from enraged to petulant in two seconds flat. Grissom was astounded at the change, and supremely pissed off at the accusation. "Look…" he angrily swiped the stack of assignments up off the desk in front of him, at the same time giving him some time to calm down and prevent his next words from sounding too caustic. "This was more important than a meeting with the chaplain. Someone tried to kill her. I brought her home, made her soup, and let her go to bed. That's it. Now as her boss, it was my responsibility and as her friend, it was something I wanted to do.

"Sara has a boyfriend. You should have let him console her." She ran her nails up and down the front of her skin tight jeans, and for a moment Grissom wondered if she was trying to stop herself from scratching his eyes out.

"He wasn't the one called, I was."

"And you should have called him to take her home and take care of her." She put her hands on her hips, her bright eyes shooting daggers at him. "He is after all the one fucking her."

Grissom closed his eyes at the image her words had put in his head, then he gritted his teeth. He didn't want to think about anyone else with Sara. It was innately selfish and horrible - even to him - but he couldn't help how he felt. "He is working her case. Someone tried to kill her. It's important that we find out who."

Alicia looked amazed at this. "That's the second time you said that someone tried to kill her. How do you know this? Cars catch on fire everyday in America, there are mechanical failures, recall issues, and who's to say she didn't torch her own car just to get attention." She had cycled from pathetic, to fuming again.

Gil Grissom's mouth dropped open for a second, and then he shook his head in disgust. "Don't be absurd."

"I'm not." Her voice had hit a new high, but then dropped taking on a tone that was almost deeply remorseful. "It's just that you take time out to do everything, for everyone, and when it's important to me, and us, like the OB thing the other day. You can't make it."

Grissom shook his head. "You do this job. You know the commitment it requires. I was working a scene. I told you to reschedule it… but you insisted on going, so don't try to blame my lack of attendance on me." Grissom made to leave, but the agile red head stepped in his way.

"If I put off going to the OB every time you can't make it, our baby will be in university before I get there." She placed her hand over the soft red material covering her belly. "If you don't want this, then say so. We're running out of time here."

The graying entomologist, stepped around the young woman in front of him, opened the door and then turned. "Honestly Alicia, I don't know what I want."

With that he left.

* * *

Nick was downing his third cup of coffee when Grissom entered the breakroom in what could only be described as a bitch of a mood.

Everyone else was already lined up around the table and they were casually discussing their most recent cases. Having nothing really to add to the conversation, he sipped quietly, his brain flipping through everything he'd found in the car. He couldn't help but wish Sara had been there, only because she was quite experienced with the mechanics of most vehicles and probably would have found the anomaly a little faster than he had. There'd been an extra wire. Clearly rigged to something that had caused the short, he'd checked the parking spot where the car had been sitting, but other than wet soot and a few pieces of gnarled plastic, there'd been little else to work from. After dropping his collections in trace he'd grabbed a shower and some fresh clothes. It hadn't helped with the exhaustion or the fear that had settled into his bones, but at least he didn't smell like the back end of a cow anymore.

Greg slid a box of donuts in front of the Texan. "You look like you need some sugar…" He noted before grabbing a powdered jelly donut for himself.

"What I need is a bed." Nick rubbed at his eyes. He'd been working two days straight, and couldn't help but wonder if he'd missed something while under the vehicle. Concerned about this, he'd locked the car in a cage in the garage hoping to go back and look at it with fresh eyes at some point.

"I heard about Sara from Catherine. Is she alright?" The younger man's words had caused the rest of the room to become quiet.

"Yeah, what's with that, man?" Warrick had heard about the incident from Hodges a few minutes into shift.

At this Grissom who'd poured himself a cup of jet fuel, turned to the group and cut in. "Her car caught fire in the parking lot this morning, with her in it."

Alicia had slipped into the room and dropped into the seat next to Warrick. The man ignored her completely. "Was it an accident?" he asked reaching across the table and nabbing a Boston crème from the box.

Grissom nodded in the Texan's direction. "Ask Nick."

Nick rolled his eyes and quickly swallowed down the mouthful of sugar donut he was hungrily masticating. His first words sounded like he was chewing on his tongue, so he washed down the pastry with some coffee and then tried again. "Pretty sure it was rigged. The stuff is ah…" He looked around the table unsure of how much to reveal. "It's being processed." He left out the details as to which department was handling it. "I'm waiting to hear back. I think something was tied into the electrical system. When the car started, it ignited causing a fire and setting off a short in the system. That's what made everything shut down."

There was silence around the table at his words. "Who would want to do that?" Greg looked at Grissom, worry plastering his face.

Catherine, who had been silently staring into the box of donuts as if trying to choose one, suddenly became animated. Liberating a double chocolate from the box she suddenly shoved it in front of Alicia, and then added. "That's the million dollar question, now isn't it, Greggo…?"

"It could be a prior suspect, someone back to get revenge." Grissom offered.

"It could also be the Pope." Nick spat. "But we all know that's bullshit." He looked directly at his boss, challenging him. "You know what I think."

The graveyard supervisor wasn't willing to get into it with Nick in front of everyone, particularly when they were both as tired as they were. "Look. Something like this has the ability to make everyone overly emotional."

Nick scoffed loudly at this but Grissom ignored him and went on. "Alicia, you have a smash and grab at the MGM. Their souvenir shop, main entrance." He passed the sullen woman the paper in his hand. "You're on your own with this…" He turned Warrick. "Your and Catherine's suspect in the Tangiers murder, fled town, he's on his way to New York. That means your case is on hold until NYPD manage to pick him up and ship him back here, so I want you to double up with Greg on that body in the desert Sara and he were working on. From what I gather, it looked like a murder suicide, so if you can manage it, put it to bed ASAP, alright?"

Warrick nodded reached around Alicia, and grabbed another pastry from the box. "Let's go dude. You can show me what you got." He nudged the younger man in the shoulder as he moved past him."

"Oh, apparently Sara left the entomological photos with you, Cath?" Grissom looked at the woman confused.

"Uh… yeah…" Catherine nodded. "She gave me the card. Mine was on the fritz I thought I might need it. I'll get it to you." It was a bold faced lie, but she figured Sara had locked the evidence in the cabinet, and she didn't want to get into that in front of everyone.

"That's fine because we're working together tonight anyway." He handed her a casefile. "The baby in the alley. We have a handle on the mother. Her name popped up when we ran DNA on the cord around the infant's neck. She's a former porn star, turned crack head, according to Sofia. They're trying to nab her. Most of the evidence has been processed, just familiarize yourself with the case, and then meet me in the garage. We're going to work on Sara's car for the night."

"What? I spent the entire day processing it. And now you want to take the case?" This was said with an angry Texas twang. "It's my case. You're the one who told me to run with it."

"Nick, I know it's your case and I'm not taking you off of it."

"It sure as hell feels like you are." Standing up, he placed his hands on his hips and tried to stare the man down, but Grissom would have none of it.

"Look, I thought I was going to need you to cover for Sara tonight, but things are fairly slow and you're exhausted." He said evenly. "Catherine and I are going to handle it for now. You are going to go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow, we'll all work it, okay?"

Nick simply stared at his boss. He was moderately insulted that they felt the need to go over the car again, but at the same time he knew he had lost his edge hours before, plus another set of eyes couldn't hurt.

Catherine was at his side. "Gil's right. Trust us. We'll take care of it for now."

A sigh of resignation escaped the younger man's chest, and he pulled a key from his pocket and passed it to the blonde woman.

"What's this?" She eyed the small silver object in her palm.

"A key to the garage cage, I put a new lock on it." Was all he said, before turning to leave.

"Hey Nicky, give Sara a hug for me." Catherine called out, as exited the room.

* * *

Jim Brass snored. And it wasn't the cute little snorts that Grissom sometimes used to make when he was overtired… NO it sounded a lot like a tyrannosaurus rex was sleeping on her living room couch.

For Sara it wasn't actually a bad thing, since it was loud enough to cover up the sound of her own retching.

Having woken up around eleven, Sara had been lucky enough to gather a few hours of sleep around her. But once her feet hit the floor she found herself wishing she was still in dreamland. On shaky legs she'd made a beeline for the bathroom and had spent the better part of an hour worshipping the porcelain God. Not that there was anything to come out, but that didn't seem to matter where her rebellious GI system was concerned.

Brass, crashed on the couch in the other room, had added to the raucous crescendo making her wonder if at some point there would be complaints from her neighbors as to the noise.

When she felt it was safe to leave the bathroom, she'd made her way over to the kitchen counter and set to work making herself some of her usual tea. Not that it seemed to be helping her much, but feeling the way she had for the last little while, she was willing to keep trying. Aside from which, she'd attempted a berry blend a week or so earlier and her stomach had fully revolted against her. Best to stick with what she knew, she decided.

With the kettle on the stove, she wandered over to the inert form on the couch and couldn't help but laugh. Brass was sleeping like the dead and looked horribly uncomfortable in a suit, none the less. Reaching across the back of the couch she yanked a blanket from where Grissom appeared to have left it earlier and was about cover the sleeping detective, when he let out a snore that was enough to wake the dead in another county and startled himself awake he fell off the couch. Less than a second later he was lying at her feet, stunned and staring up at her with a confused expression on his face.

Sara was giggling hysterically.

"Ha…Ha…Ha…" Brass mimicked her and struggled to sit up, using Sara's ottoman and the couch for leverage. "Is this how you treat your houseguests?"

Offering the man a hand, the slim brunette helped the detective up off the floor and was still smiling as she made her way back into the kitchen. "I'm making some tea…I can share if you'd like."

Tugging his jacket down to straighten it, Brass wandered over to the counter and plopped down on one of the barstools. "That stuff gives me ex-wife from hell flashbacks. You got any coffee?"

Sara grinned and nodded. "It's not as good as Greg's usual stuff, but I have some great organic Columbian."

"Organic?" The detective fiddled with his tie and grimace. "Cookie, are you trying to kill me?"

Still smiling the young CSI pulled a bodum out of the cupboard and placed it on the counter before reaching for the grinder and some fresh beans. "Just the opposite Jim, organic coffee has no pesticides of any kind. So you aren't slugging back chemical soup when you drink it."

"What if I like chemical soup?" The man sounded almost mournful.

"Then you'll have to hit the coffee shop down the street." Pouring the beans into the grinder, Sara pressed the power button and watched as they turned into a fine grind.

Brass sulked momentarily. "Well I suppose I'll have to learn to like my coffee ala natural. Bugs included."

Sara giggled again, poured the grind into the bodum, put the plunger in and then added the boiling water. "The bugs come free of charge, yah know."

"You should feed it to the bugman then. Sounds like it's right up his alley."

The smile on her face faltered for a second. The coffee had actually been a purchase from Grissom to her, as had the bodum. "I have." she replied softly. "He seems to enjoy the added flavour and says the protein is good for you."

Jim Brass noticed the change in the young woman's demeanor immediately. His words were soft. "Sara, the baby…"

Dark eyes met hazel. "You don't want to ask that question." Was all she said; her hand inadvertently moving to her stomach.

"What if I do?" The detective accepted the cup she put in front of him and then downed a gulp.

Sara was about to respond when there was a knock at her door.

Brass was off his chair in an instant. "I'll get it." He walked over to the end table where he'd placed his side arm and picked it up.

"That's not really necessary…" the slim brunette was moving to let whoever it was in when she felt his steady hand on her arm.

"Someone tried to cook you this morning. Stay where you are."

"Who is it…?" Sara called out hoping to end the silliness.

"It's me, buttercup." There was a laugh on the other side of the door. "Loverboy, remember?"

Rolling her eyes, the young woman turned a lovely shade of red. "See…" There was a look of triumph on her face and it mixed nicely with the embarrassment already residing there. She slid the lock back as Brass returned his gun to its holster.

"Come on in, loverboy." The captain invited in a girly voice, as Sara opened the door to reveal an exhausted Nick Stokes.

The Texan's face colored to almost the same shade as Sara's. "Uh…" he cast a look at the woman beside him. "Hey, Jim."

"Nick, come on in. we were just having some bug infused caffeine." The older man invited, as he returned to his place at the counter. "…and discussing Sara's baby." He added.

"You mean our baby don't you?" Nick moved up behind Sara, who was back to freshening the tea in her tea ball, and wrapped his arms around her.

She stiffened for an instant and then relaxed in his embrace, as his lips traveled lightly over the skin of her neck and stopped with a peck near her ear. Despite the fact that Nick was merely a friend, Sara had no choice but to acknowledge the feeling his touch brought to her. Turning her head to the side, she smiled at him and then held up a cup of tea. "Coffee or tea?"

"Nah, neither. Honey, you know I'll never get to sleep if I drink that stuff."

Brass, who'd been watching the entire display, was having trouble making things jive in his head. Despite the fact that he hadn't said anything to either of them, the detective had figured it out several months previously that Grissom and Sara were involved. And it wasn't a supposition but rather a truth born of the fact that he'd actually seen them at dinner one night at an out of town restaurant, which had sealed the deal for him. Not that the dinner alone had been the catalyst for the discovery, but rather it was the way in which Grissom had held and kissed the young woman on the dance floor after desert that had set the relationship in stone. That's why he'd been ready to ask her if the child was his friend's when Nick had arrived. But now seeing them together, and knowing that Grissom and Alicia were engaged he couldn't help but wonder what the hell had gone wrong. Although, having heard about his friend's impending fatherhood through the lab's grapevine, it wasn't difficult to hazard a guess. "So what did you find?" The captain swigged his coffee, his eyes carefully searching for proof that the young couple's behavior was nothing but a ruse.

"Mmmm…" Nick leaned on the counter beside Sara, who was busy sipping her tea, and picked a grape off the top off of a pile sitting in a fruit bowl. He cast his eyes in the young woman's direction unsure as to whether he should upset her more than she already was, by telling her the truth. She was staring back at him stone faced. He was going to blow off the comment when he felt a warm hand on his arm.

Placing her cup on the counter, she gazed at him gravely. "I want to know the truth, Nick. I can't protect myself if you keep me in the dark."

"Trace isn't back. But I think that someone rigged the system to short out. You started the car, it blew the system and then caught fire. Cath and Gris are going over the car again this evening." Nick's hand immediately moved to her back in an attempt to sooth her. "And you won't have to protect yourself; the rest of us will be here to help with that, too."

She wanted to tell him that at the end of the day, despite their charade, it would just be her and the little one inside her. But with Brass in the room she bit back the comment. "This just doesn't make any sense." Bile was rising in her throat again, but this time she wasn't sure if it was because of her pregnancy, or the knowledge that some one was out to kill her. Sara leaned against the counter and dropped her head onto it.

"You okay?" Nick's hand was gentle and warm through the thin material of her navy pajama top.

"I will be when we figure out who is out to get Catherine and me." She swallowed but it was to no avail, two seconds later she was headed for the bathroom her hand clasped over her mouth.

Nick cast his eyes in the detective's direction and then followed the fleeing woman. The bathroom door was slightly ajar so he poked his head in and then assuring himself that he wasn't intruding; he entered, grabbed a face cloth and wet it.

"God…" A stiff moan escaped from the young woman sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the toilet. "This is brutal." Silently, she was busy cursing Grissom, and clasping a hand over her abdomen, she let out another moan. Her muscles were still aching from the earlier round of retching.

"I wish there was some way I could help, Sunshine." Crouching beside Sara, the Texan held the cool cloth to her head.

"Wanna carry this kid for the next 8 months?" Sara groaned again, and leaned into Nick who at this point had put his arm around her.

"There's nothing coming out Sara…" Bracing himself he helped her to her feet. "Come and lay down in bed."

She shook her head. "I'll be okay."

"Lay down and I'll bring you some crackers and cheese." He refused to allow her to go back into the kitchen; instead he helped her into her bedroom and waited until she climbed into bed. She was almost pouting when he left the room.

Jim Brass examined Sara's dimly lit bedroom. Save for a small light on the bedside table, the deep maroon room was dark, yet comfortable. Sara , despite her simple tastes had lavished her bedroom with rich jewel toned fabrics, and dark wood furniture. "You know my wife never had morning sickness with Ellie. The real pain hit when she became a teenager." Brass was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed.

"I don't even want to think that far ahead. The thought of being a parent scares me, Brass." Sara pulled the thick chocolate colored comforter up around her and sank back against her headboard.

The detective scoffed at this. "You'll be a great mom."

Sara looked darkly at him.

"So other than the morning sickness, how are you feeling?"

It pained her to admit it. "Scared." She looked down at the flat plain of her belly and thought of the small life inside it. Before they had confirmed that the torching of her car was intentional, she'd been okay. But verification of the fact that it was deliberate made her blood run cold and kicked up an anger in her too. "And fighting mad."

"Mommy instinct kicking in… See you're a natural…" Brass grinned and moved towards the bed where he took seat facing her. "And don't worry about this wacko, we're onto him. No one will get to you or the little one, now that we know this person is has escalated their attacks. I'll see to it that you're not left alone."

"Great..." The slim brunette rolled her eyes.

"Listen Buttercup, Jim's right. We're going to need to keep a close eye on you until the person behind this is caught. You can't be alone." Nick made his way over to the bedside table and placed a cheese sandwich with a glass of milk there. "Out of crackers… sorry… This should help though."

"Well if I have to live life in solitary confinement why doesn't Catherine? She's been a target, too…" Sara grabbed half of the sandwich and eyed it warily. "If I eat this I'm going to puke again."

"Then I'll clean it up." Nick nudged her hand towards her mouth. "You can't not eat for the next eight months, you eat, the baby eats."

"I think the person behind this has moved onto you as a target, but just in case I'm gonna put someone on Catherine too." Brass yawned and stood. "Listen I'm wiped. I'm gonna call PD and have them send a car over here later, and then if it's okay with you, I'll crash on your couch a little longer. I have to head in to the office at around 4am so this'll save me a drive home."

Sara's gaze flicked from Brass to Nick and she grinned almost painfully before taking a bite of the sandwich. .

A smile spread across the detective's face knowing full well what he'd just done. "Don't worry about me, you two get some sleep, just keep the hanky panky to a minimum." With a wink Jim Brass turned and left, the bedroom door closing with a clunk behind him.

A low moan emanated from the young woman on the bed and she flopped back against the pillows.

"Ahh…now, now… It'll be fine." Nick couldn't help but grin.

"This isn't funny…" Sara crossed her arms across her chest and glared at the man in front of her.

Nick sobered. "Look, you trust me, don't you?"

The slim brunette stared silently at him.

"Come on Sar…" He placed his hand on his hips and returned her gaze. "You know I would never do anything you didn't want me to."

She nodded silently. "I know. I'm sorry." She took another bite of sandwich and washed it down with a gulp of milk before placing the rest back on the plate. "I just don't know if we're doing the right thing here, Nick."

With this he nodded and sat down, his hand coming to rest over hers. "We are." Dark eyes sought out dark eyes, silent reassurance passing between them. "Okay?"

Sara shook her head and looked at his thick fingers entwining their way through her long slender ones. "This could get messy and has the ability to hurt everyone involved. I don't like lying to people."

Nick's free hand came up and he shoved an errant strand of hair away from her face. "In this case, the end justifies the means, Sara." He leaned in and gave her a swift hug. "Look, we're your family, so if doing this means you can stay here, no questions asked - then it's all worth it, alright?"

The young woman sank into his embrace and nodded against her friend's chest.

"Good." The tall Texan pulled back and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Now scoot over…"

Sara's eyebrows almost hit her hairline. "No way dude this is my side of the bed."

He nodded in her direction. "I see how it is." He grinned. "Fine." Turning he moved to the other side of the bed and dropped his jeans. "Be that way…"

A short laugh sprang from the slim brunette's lips.

"What?" He looked down at the Bugs Bunny boxers he was wearing and smiled. "Never you mind… Bugs was a cool dude." With that tossed his pants over a nearby chair, climbed into bed and rolled over to face the woman beside him. He was immediately solemn. "How did things go today with Gris?"

Sliding down to join him on the mattress, Sara lay flat on her back, her palm stretched across her belly as she stared at the ceiling. "It hurt and I don't want to talk about it."

"You sure?" He reached across and squeezed her free hand.

She nodded silently.

"Okay… g'night…" He closed his eyes and rolled over to face away from his bedmate. "And uh Sara…?"

"Yeah…" Still grim she was focused on the ceiling, dim light of her bedside table was casting murky shadows there.

"Try to keep the snoring down to a minimum, or I'll record it and play it back to the whole lab." His laugh was followed by a stiff yelp as his sleeping companion first kicked him in the ankle, and then whacked him in the head with a pillow. "Thanks…" He said scooping up the extra pillow and slipping it under his head.

Less than five minutes later, the room was filled with the sleepy sounds of soft breathing.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: in Chapter 1.

A/N: Thanks for your patience… this is a weird one… Be warned. I'm not upping the rating on this. But the first chunk of this chapter should be an M… Follow the lines if you want to avoid reading it. It will be safe after the first solid line. Thanks to all of you for your amazing reviews. You feed my creative soul. Not beta'd any mistakes are mine and there are probably a few, which I of course will find later and clean up no doubt. **Okay this is a second posting of the same chapter. I switched a few sentences to make it a tad clearer...**

**Chapter 17 **

"I love the taste of your skin." Gil Grissom leaned in his mouth tracing a tender path along her delicate collarbone.

She giggled and followed it up with a moan as his lips and tongue moved to one delicate shoulder and then slowly made its way to down to one sensitive breast.

"Untie me?" It was a request uttered as a throaty plea. Its cadence hit him in places that only intensified his desire to do the opposite of her request.

"Uh… uh…" The graying entomologist shook his head, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned in and took one petal pink nipple into his mouth. Working it with same concentration as most things in his life, Grissom suckled it softly between moistened lips and then blew softly on it until it hardened.

"Please…" What had started out as a request for freedom immediately turned into an appeal for more as Grissom moved onto the other breast.

"Please, what?" he teased, painting a languid trail of kisses along the supple skin of her abdomen.

The young woman's breaths quickened, and she found herself unable to answer as he tasted and fondled his way back up her body his thick fingers reveling in the silken skin beneath them. The words finally broke free as he hovered over her. "Oh God, please don't stop."

Grissom's smile at this was wolf like as leaned in his mouth finding and claiming hers. His lips were possessive and demanding and it drew another moan from the woman under him. She lost herself in the sensation and she pressed her body into his; her mouth as unyielding and wanting as his. She kissed relentlessly, offering him her heart and soul.

He pulled away; his fingers nimble and warm, as they sought to incresase his partner's already overwhelming passion. Well trained, they found their mark eliciting a gasp of pleasure and pain from the young woman. His touch was just the right mix of gentle, yet firm; goading the soft damp nub under his ministrations to lead her into the abyss.

She gasped again feeling the heat building below, a sigh of pleasure turned to a scream of horror as she looked down to see her pants on fire. Terror lit her eyes as she began to thrash, her hands still tied to the unyielding bed frame.

"No…" The word was ripped from her throat, as she fought to get free.

"Sara…"

She could hear the voice in the distance. It was insistent.

"Sara, stop. You're going to hurt yourself."

The slim brunette followed the voice's command, the fog surrounding her beginning to lift as she worked her way back to consciousness. With something that sounded remarkably like a whimper she realized that her hands weren't actually tied to anything but rather being held tightly in the grasp of a concerned looking Nick Stokes.

There was fear in his dark eyes. "Sara… It's okay…" His southern accent soothed and relaxed his grip on her hands; as she fell shaking into his em brace.

"I was on fire." She whispered against his chest.

He held her until she'd stopped trembling. "I know it must have been terrifying." He whispered into hair. "You're safe now…"

She nodded. "I just…" She moved away slightly and rubbed at her eyes with one tremulous hand. "God, at the time I was panicked, and desperate. Now I'm just afraid. And I hate being afraid, and I hate crying and I hate puking and just everything..." She shook her head in disbelief. "Why would someone at the lab want to do this?"

"I don't know, Sara." He wiped away some of the tears that were staining her face. "If it was just you, and if it was just the attempt on your life, I would be inclined to agree with Grissom, that it might be an old suspect. But, it involved you and Catherine, and it was little things, everyday things - almost as though at first the person was just trying to discredit you and her."

Sara bobbed her head.

"Cath has a few leads, something will break soon." He assured her, and slowly let her go. "You're slightly wheezy, Sunshine. Relax, I'm going to go get your medication."

The shaken brunette lay back onto the pillows and watched as Nick made his way out of the room; her hand resting against the warmth of the spot he'd just vacated. His touch was comforting, but something she didn't want to become reliant on. Their oddly morphing relationship was just another thing to be afraid of.

As it turns out Nick was thinking the same thing as he exited the bedroom. Never in his life had he been so happy that his boxers were loose. This feeling was amped up a few more notches when he looked up to find a stoic Gil Grissom just entering the apartment.

"Uh… Hi Boss." He closed the bedroom door behind him and was temped to reach for a nearby couch pillow, but instead smiled nervously; a scarlet flush creeping across his face. "She just woke up…" He tossed a thumb over his shoulder towards the room he'd just exited. "Nightmare about the fire…" He followed Grissom's eyes, which landed on the folded blanket, and pillow stacked on a nearby chair and wasn't sure how to react. Though part of him was glad Grissom had made the supposition he did. Why, was something he didn't want to over think, but somewhere in his head there was a note of triumph attached to the thought. "Gotta got to the washroom and get her, her meds." At that moment Nick felt a lot like one of his boss' bugs pinned to a tack board. He indicated the room behind him. "Why don't you go in and see her?" With that, he entered the bathroom quickly glad to be away from the interrogating eyes of one particular entomologist.

A heavy sigh cracked across his chest, as he made a beeline for the sink. His head was a mess, and he knew it. He had no idea what to do about the situation, and the most disturbing thing about that, was the fact that he wasn't sure he wanted to do anything at all. Splashing cold water on his face multiple times he gave himself a moment to recover before casting his gaze on the man in the mirror. The situation was bad; he could see it in his own hopeful eyes. His hand inadvertently reached for the mouthwash beside the toothpaste and he guzzled it, praying it would wash the sweet taste of her mouth from his. It was little help though, as he already knew that the memory of her seeking lips and tongue on his was permanently burned into his brain.

* * *

She'd stayed an extra hour just to spend a little more time on the shoe. It had been a bitch of a night. The inspection of Sara's car had been short lived. A 419 had come in quickly after assignments had been passed out, and at her insistence Nick wasn't called in. Instead, she and Grissom had gone to the scene to make a grim discovery; a mother and her two children, one of them still in diapers, had been butchered, by the father who'd been found passed out in a pool of his wife's blood. 

The man's blood alcohol level was off the chart, so he'd been dragged off to PD to sober up and would be most likely ready for interviewing the following night. This had taken the better part of the evening. Then a break in the baby in the alley case, now known as baby Conrad, had seen to it that the rest of her evening was spent in the company of Grissom, Brass, and the infant's mother a Joline Conrad formerly of Virginia.

Lindsay was busing it to school that morning for sure.

Catherine stared down at her watch. Five more minutes she told herself, as her fingers hit the advance button one more time. She'd been rethinking the whole shoe thing, as it was absorbing far more time than she had anticipated. Surely, there had to be other evidence. Though, the items in trace that had come back from Sara's car, had yielded little or no information with regards to who it was who had set the device in place, but rather, only gave them a clearer picture as to how the fire had started. And it was much as Nick had said; someone had essentially rigged it to short and catch fire when the vehicle was started. She'd taken the evidence and locked it in the file cabinet along with the other mounting collection of odds and ends.

They needed to solve the whole mess soon otherwise she would have to invest in another cabinet, and explaining that requisition, to both Grissom and Ecklie, would be a royal pain in the ass.

Her finger hit the advance button again. The blonde was seriously pissed off. She didn't like puzzles she couldn't solve, and this one was a bitch. Whoever was behind everything was clever, and this scared her. Which pissed her off even more, because she was generally not woman to scare easily. Having seen the blackened car she knew that the situation had escalated from serious to deadly. Even though, things had relaxed where she was concerned, and it was obvious that the focus had now shifted to Sara, this knowledge didn't allow her to rest any easier.

The simple fact of the matter was, that in light of everything, and despite change in victim, she knew she couldn't let her guard down for a minute. Add to this the fact that she kept asking herself what would have happened if it had been Lindsay and her in the car? Or worse yet, what if Sara hadn't gotten out? And the anger that had abated for a short time was back full force.

Sara and she had had their difficulties in the past to be sure, but she cared for and respected the younger woman, and it was insulting to think that whoever was behind it all had balls enough to believe that they could get away with trying to kill one of her friends.

She flipped the page forward again. It was as personal as you could get without trying to harm a direct family member. She stared at the tread in front of her, her heart leaping. Picking up the small nub for confirmation she smiled at the information on the screen and then clicked the footprint, looking for a direct comparison for size. A moment later she was miles ahead of where she had been mere seconds before.

Grabbing her cell phone up from the table beside her, she hit speed dial and let out a whoop of triumph when a certain detective picked up the phone. "I finally got something on that shoe, Jim, and it's a big something…"

* * *

Sara sat poised in bed. Her chest still hurt and breathing caused some pain in her red raw throat, but after a full night's sleep, and despite the nightmare, she was feeling immeasurably better. She did an internal analysis, determining that she was in fact hungry and not nauseated at all. Not that that was anything to go by, since her GI system was tricky as of late and much like a racecar driver, it could go from 0 to 60 in a heartbeat and seconds later she would find herself face down in the toilet, yet again. 

She was still contemplating this and the early morning light stealing its way between the California shutters that covered her window, when there was a knock at her door. Knowing it probably wasn't Nick; she took a final swipe at her bloodshot eyes, and drew the blankets up around her waist. "Come in…" Her voice sounded as rough as her throat felt.

"Hey…" The word was soft, almost apologetic, as Grissom pushed the door open carefully and made his way in.

A collection of emotions and memories assaulted her as he entered what used to be their private and intimate space. It would always be her apartment, but since they'd spent so much time together sharing the bed, she'd come to think of the bedroom as something that was no longer simply hers, but instead a place that was theirs.

Reality was a bitch...

"Hi…" She smiled trying to keep the melancholy out of her voice.

"How are you feeling?" He moved across the room and placed a brightly colored bakery bag on the nightstand. "It's a vegan chocolate chip muffin, and some fresh juice." He informed her before dropping onto the bed beside her. With a gentle smile he took her hand in his and gave it a slight squeeze.

"I'm okay…" she eyed the bag, another bout of melancholy biting at her. "Thanks." She cast a small grin in his direction as her stomach grumbled at the smell of the pastry.

He reached into the bag and brought the muffin out.

This was another tradition. On the mornings that she'd been off the night before, he would come by and coerce her out of bed with breakfast from Madison's Square. On the nights that he'd been off, he would meet her at her apartment. Those times she was the one carrying the bag, but it would be from Frank's instead. "Did you get some sleep?"

Sara wondered if the same memories plagued him? Or had he built new ones with Alicia? Although, if their conversation the previous day was anything to go by; the answer to that question was probably a resounding _no._ Selfishly, this realization brought her a small measure of comfort despite the fact that she knew it shouldn't. The feel of his warm hand on her cheek made her shake the thought out of her head. Looking away she nodded, broke a piece off the top of the muffin and popped it into her mouth.

"Nick said you had a nightmare." His eyes searched hers.

"Mmmm…" She swallowed a second bite. "About the fire."

"It was a traumatic event." Grissom assured her. "It may take a while to get over." He eyed her darkly and passed her the juice to wash her muffin down with. "Sara, I know now is not the time but we need to talk."

That was the last thing she wanted. Any of their recent conversations had only upped the level of ache that was assaulting her daily. This one, she was certain, would prove to be no different. She was in the midst of shaking her head when Nick returned.

"Did you find anything new in the car?" The Texan shifted his gaze between the two-some, his eyes finally settling on Grissom.

Sporting a pained look Sara gazed in her former lover's direction waiting for a report.

"We suffered a deluge. Cath and I had got a call out to a… uh…" He didn't want to discuss the domestic; it would cause far too many bad memories to surface for Sara. "A 419, and then the mother in _the alley case_ was brought in. We both took a cursory look at it, but didn't find anything. I'm going to hand it back to you tonight."

Nick nodded. "Okay, I'll come in early then."

Grissom bobbed his head. "We did get trace back. The stuff you dropped off confirmed your theory, about how the fire started. The wires were also soaked in a flammable liquid. Hodges said regular gasoline. I guess it was a guarantee the spark would catch."

Sara swallowed grimly, and leaned back into her pillows, her hand inadvertently moving to her stomach. Catching herself, she immediately reached for the juice Grissom had brought.

Seeing her grimace as she swallowed, Nick held out the pills he'd brought. "Take these… They'll help your throat."

The slim brunette shook her head. "I'm okay."

Nick knew why she didn't want the pills so he didn't push her to take both. "Just one then Sara, it'll take the edge off the pain."

The young woman pursed her lips. "Okay…" She relented, held her hand out for the pill, and then washed it down with the remainder of the juice. When he held out the ventolin chamber she was adamant. "No. It's not necessary. I'm only a little wheezy; it's only bad when I hyperventilate. Regular breathing is okay."

"You should take it." Grissom did his best to reason with her, but she would have none of it.

"I'm fine." Her voice indicated this wasn't the case, but neither of the men was willing to argue with her.

"Okay, but you're not coming back to the lab until you have an all clear from the doctor."

Sara's mouth dropped open. "That's not fair."

"Sara with someone out to get you, I would prefer that you don't set foot outside this apartment until he or she is caught, but I can't make you do that." He cast a glance at the younger man standing beside him. "However, I am your boss, so this is something I do have control over - fair or not." He added.

The slim brunette squinted at him as though she were considering cold-blooded murder.

"Sara' he's right, honeybunch." It pained Nick to admit it, and the scathing look she passed his way hurt even more. He grinned a shit-eating grin and shrugged. "Give it a couple of days and I'm sure the doctor will give you a green light."

In full pout mode the young woman crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the two men.

"Look…" Nick was doing his best to appease her, mostly because he didn't want to be murdered in his sleep any time soon. "You need to sort out your insurance, get a new car, and replace your kit, ID, and anything else in your purse. Why don't we spend the next couple of days doing that? Instead of arguing about something you have no control over."

"Fine!" It was an agreeable word said in such a way that indicated Sara Sidle wasn't feeling agreeable at all. "You two are Neanderthals." Casting aside the bedding, the young woman climbed out of bed and stomped into the bathroom leaving the two men staring at each other.

"I don't think we deserved that." Nick said easily.

"She's not a happy camper, that's for sure." Grissom agreed an amused grin painting his face. "But she wouldn't be Sara, if she went down without a fight."

"Hell no, that would be too easy." There was sarcasm dripping from the younger man's words.

"Look, I'm glad I have a minute with you."

The hair on the back on Nick's neck stood up. For a moment he was afraid that Grissom wanted to discuss his relationship with Sara. He nodded warily.

"You said something the other day. That you thought the missing sample and the car fire were related. Now I know, you're a solid investigator not prone to jumping to conclusions, so I want to know why you think these two incidents are connected." Grissom stood and headed out into the main living area of the young woman's apartment.

Nick trailed behind him trying to formulate an answer that he couldn't give. He decided to go with ambiguity. "Just a hunch."

The entomologist shook his head. "No there's something more. Something you're not telling me." He was a master at interrogation and the younger man knew it.

The Texan crossed his arms across his chest. "The two incidents occurred close together time wise, both happened at the lab…" He shrugged trying to stretch the information.

"You locked up the car inside the cage, put a new lock on it…" Grissom waited, dissecting the young man with his hard blue eyes.

"Okay…" Nick nodded as if having decided something. "I think it might be someone at the lab." He figured by leaving Catherine out of it he could skirt the issue.

"That's an even bigger conclusion to jump to than the last." Dragging his fingers through his beard Grissom scratched at it slightly and leveled the young man with his steady gaze. The look on his face said; he wasn't buying it, and most importantly he knew the man was hiding something.

"I can't believe I need to get a new car." Sara's words were plaintive as she exited the bathroom, looking fresher and somewhat less aggravated than she did earlier.

A sigh of relief escaped the younger man. "Look at it this way, you can hold onto that new car smell a little longer."

The willowy brunette rolled her eyes and made her way to the kitchen. "I'd rather not have to go through the hassle." She was still hungry so she figured she'd strike while the iron was hot. Reaching into the fridge she withdrew a carton of eggs and some pre cut veggies. Popping the Tupperware bin on the counter she eyed the two men across the room. Nick was staring at her with amusement. "What?" She asked returning his smile.

He snickered at this and moved to give her a hand. "The Tupperware bin gets me every time, you just don't seem the type…"

She looked at him as if he'd grown an extra limb. "There's a Tupperware type?"

"Oh yeah." Bending over he reached into the cupboard under the stove and hauled out a frying pan. "My sister… Ultra organized, and she owns every piece of Tupperware ever made. Even the little pill dispenser."

"For your information this is the only piece of Tupperware I own and your sister's are beginning to scare me." Sara remarked breaking some eggs into a bowl. "They're all terribly domestic."

"Yeah… they scare me too." He chuckled. "Why do you think I moved to Vegas?"

"I figured it was the bright lights, showgirls, and abundance of dead bodies." The slim brunette was still smiling when she looked up to see a silent Grissom staring at her from the other side of the bar. The look of hurt in his eyes caused the smile to die on her face. She knew he was feeling the same thing she was. There was another man in her kitchen re-enacting what used to be a comfortable and loving routine for them. Mixing the eggs with some milk Nick had retrieved she passed him the bowl. "Go to it chef Stokes…"

"With pleasure, Ms. Sidle." He nudged her slightly out of the way with his hip, and then turned to the stove.

She was about to launch into some questions about the goings on in the lab, when there was a tight rap on the door. Grateful for the distraction, Sara padded barefoot over to it and was about to open it, when both Nick and Grissom stopped her.

Holding her around the waist Grissom pulled her quietly back into the kitchen and held her in place, her back pressed against him.

Nick who'd stowed his gun in his gym bag when he arrived, grabbed it from the side pocket and stood beside the door.

Grissom nudged Sara slightly. "Ask who it is."

His breath was warm on her neck and she had to swallow away the strains of desire that flitted through her. Doing her best to ignore the feel of his body up against hers, she called out as instructed, and hoped to hell that the quiver in her voice was undetected by the two men in the room.

From the other side of the door Catherine's familiar voice broke the quiet of the room. "Just me…" Nick swung the door open, switched the safety back into place, and then dropped his piece back into his bag, as the blonde pushed her way in. "Hey, I finally have some news on that shoe…" her eyes fell on Grissom and she stopped.

"What shoe?" His gaze was set in stone. His mind flitted through all the cases they had on the go doing his best to remember some mention of a shoe. There weren't any that he could recall. Clearly it was something that they were all involved in and this combined with Nick's recent suspicions, set of a series of alarm bells that told him there was a secret to be uncovered.

The three CSIs looked at each other rather penitently, a little like three flies caught in a web.

"Out with it." He ordered with infinite authority, and took a seat on the couch. "I'm listening."

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for your patience. Christmas shopping and other things have taken away from my writing time this week. This chapter is a little longer so I hope it was worth waiting for. This is unbeta'd as always – forgive me. I may end up making some corrections tomorrow. Thank you all for your kind reviews. You are amazing.

**Chapter 18**

Catherine scanned both Sara and Nick's face, and not surprisingly they seemed content to let her be the one to do the talking. Absently, she wished that Brass was there to back her up. With a heavy sigh she sat across from him on the couch. A second later a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of both her and Grissom, and then the two younger CSIs joined them. Doing her best to formulate the most basic of explanations, she took a sip of the coffee and nodded. "Okay... the running shoe print is part of an investigation I am working on. It's kind of personal so I didn't want to bring you into it."

Grissom had grimaced at the word personal, so she held up her hand. "Not personal in the way you are thinking." She swigged the coffee some more and savored it; her eyes traveling to the young woman seated to her right. Sara wore a neutral expression, while Nick who was sitting on the arm of the couch beside the brunette was animatedly studying the books on Sara's wallunit. "Do you remember a few months ago? The Blatt case, the one with the missing evidence?"

There was an almost imperceptible nod cast in her direction.

"Doesn't that sound even remotely similar to something else that's happened recently?" The blonde gazed at the man who was sitting across from her.

"The missing blood sample?"

"Yeah." Catherine nodded. "Well that's not the only thing that's gone down."

At this comment the color drained from both Nick and Sara's faces and they exchanged glances. When they'd agreed to keep silent about the recovered evidence, they were both well aware it could mean their jobs if anyone found out. But they were hoping that the case would be solved prior to that knowledge becoming public.

"Okay…" Grissom ignored the coffee in favor of studying the threesome seated across from him. "So what else are we talking about here?"

"Little things, items missing or moved at the lab. Nothing that was irreplaceable, but stuff that was important enough that I had to waist time re collecting, or re processing it." Catherine sipped her coffee again and tucked one golden strand of her wavy hair behind her ear.

"So these things, you think were intentionally moved or stolen?" The nightshift supervisor ran a worried hand along his beard, and cast his piercing blue gaze on Sara. The young woman in turn, looked away seemingly more interested in doing anything else but returning his gaze.

"Hell yeah." The blonde woman rolled her eyes. "I may be getting a little older, but these Alzheimer episodes have nothing to do with me, my age, or my memory. And that I would bet my kid on."

"So you believe the incidents you are describing are related to Sara's missing blood sample, which Nick seems to believe is connected to the attempt on her life?"

All three CSIs nodded.

"I can see that there may be a problem at the lab. But how does this connect to the attempt on Sara's life? Trying to discredit someone – which is how this seems – is a far cry from trying to kill them." There was a pounding growing behind his eyes, which could only mean a migraine. This whole situation had the power to fell him. He didn't like the idea of someone at the lab being involved, yet his brain had already begun sifting through new staff and old staff with any kind of a grudge.

"Well once I started suspecting someone at the lab I became and completely meticulous about how I handed evidence – don't say it" Catherine held her hand up cutting Grissom off at the pass. "I know that's how evidence is supposed to be handled all the time. But we are also supposed to be able to trust the people we work with enough that if we step away for a second nothing will go missing and if we put something in the evidence locker - that it will still be there when we get back."

Grisson nodded reluctantly not necessarily agreeing but willing to set aside the argument for a while. "Go on."

"Anyway, I started locking things up. And I mean everything. This seemed to solve the problem for a while. Then one day someone put a rock through my front window, and another time my car tire was popped."

Like a bolt of lightening had struck him Grissom was on his feet and animatedly pacing. "You should have come to me with this immediately." His cerulean orbs were accusing as he raked them across his three team members.

Catherine shrugged. "It was my problem initially. And I thought I could handle it."

Grissom's remark was scathing. "I'm not sure thought is the appropriate word here."

"That's a little unfair don't you think, Gris?" Nick kicked in, in the older woman's defense. "I mean the minute she believed there was reason for concern, she told the two of us to keep an eye out."

"The minute you realized there was a serious problem." His gaze was fused to Catherine's. "You should have come to me. As it is, this person has clearly escalated and almost killed a member of our team. I deserved to know this a long time ago."

Catherine slumped. He was right and she knew it. However, there were still things that she didn't want him to know. "You're right." She said by way of appeasement. "It was a bad judgment call on my behalf."

"This isn't all Catherine's fault." Sara added, her throat still burning. Grissom stared at her seeing almost through her. She swallowed hard. "We were all a party to it." She looked gravely at her companions. "We should have come to you."

"Why, didn't you?"

The blonde woman jumped in before anyone else had the opportunity. "Because you have a lot on your plate right now." When he shook his head in confusion she added. "New baby on the way, wedding…" She shrugged. "I'm a supervisor too. I figured I would save you the headache and deal with it myself."

"That's bullshit, Catherine. I haven't been that distracted." Grissom was more than insulted at the idea that she felt his personal life was impeding on his ability to do his job. Yet he found himself rethinking the last few months at the lab and questioning the goings on there. He pushed the thought aside knowing it was something he would definitely revisit later. "Alright, so where does the shoe print come into play?"

Catherine grimaced. She thought she'd muddied the waters enough that he would forget about it. She didn't want to lie to him but at the same time she couldn't tell him where she'd found it as she didn't want to get into the truth of having re-bagged evidence not only once or twice, but a few times. Until they had connected all the dots. "I found it outside my house in the approximate place where the person would have had to stand to lob a three pound boulder through my window and into my living room."

"Are you sure it belongs to the perp?" The graying entomologist looked skeptical. "You have a lot of joggers in your neighborhood; couldn't it have been from one of them?"

"My front yard is xeriscaped, the person responsible would have had to been jogging through the fountain area of my rock garden to lose it there. Besides it's not a shoe print perse, but rather a piece of a shoe. Doing a manual comparison – which was a bitch and a half - I figured out this morning that it was a Nike sneaker." The blonde woman let out a sigh of relief, pleased that she'd made it sound even remotely plausible. She took another sip of coffee.

Nick and Sara threw a confused glance at the older woman. She'd known _that_ a few days earlier.

"That's all you have?" Grissom nodded. "A piece of a sneaker?"

"Well it's ongoing, Gil…" Exhausted Catherine was in no mood to have the obvious pointed out to her. They really didn't have much, other than the shoe piece. It was unfortunate, but true.

"When I get in this evening, I'm going to start pulling employee records for comparison. "If we're not too busy I'll get Warrick go over them with me." Grissom's face was grim. He didn't like any of this. Mostly he didn't like feeling as though Catherine might have been right on some level about his being distracted as of late.

"Okay." Nick put in. "So I'll take care of the car again. I'll go over it one more time. This time with fresher eyes." He added; his hand unconsciously coming to rest on Sara's back.

"Assuming Las Vegas stays out of trouble tonight, I'll give you a hand with that." Catherine offered.

Feeling a little off kilter, the slim brunette leaned into Nick's touch, her body hungrily absorbing the comfort he offered.

The intimacy between the twosome caused Grissom to scowl, he wanted to yell at the younger man to keep his hands off her, but he bit back the comment, and quickly plastered a neutral look on his face. "I've asked Greg to come and sit with Sara tonight." He leveled the younger woman with his gaze. "Brass has a car sitting on the apartment building, but I want someone inside the apartment with you."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Greg doesn't even have a gun." But it would be nice to have the younger man's company, she decided. He was a neutral party in the whole sordid affair, and it would be a pleasant break from the brooding and unhappy Grissom, and the surrogate partnership of Nick. Her head was a muddle and she new it. A few senseless hours spent with the former lab rat would take her mind off how easy it was to be around the former Texan, and maybe offer her up some perspective. It was becoming far too easy to accept his ministrations and caring, and that was scary as hell.

"He's a deterrent, in case the perpetrator becomes bolder and tries to get to you in person." The night shift supervisor was in no mood for an argument on the matter.

Feeling phenomenally lightheaded the young CSI nodded agreeably and leaned a little further into Nick.

He noticed the change in her demeanor immediately. "You okay?" He nudged her slightly as the other two people in the room looked on.

She bobbed her head. "Yeah…Just a little dizzy."

Both Nick and Catherine stood up at that. "Lay down…" The young man instructed. "It's probably the pain meds on an empty stomach that's doing it to you."

As if to make a point, Sara's stomach took that particular moment to let out a loud growl.

This drew a laugh from both Nick and Catherine as they watched the young woman stretch full out on the couch.

Grissom was the only one not smiling; instead he was halfway across the room on his way to the fridge. A moment later he'd returned with a glass of juice. "I can finish up the eggs." he offered.

"Naw man, I'll do it…" Nick gave the slim brunette's shoulder a small squeeze and made his way back into the kitchen. "Hey Cath, you sticking around? You know I make a killer omelet."

"Yeah, Killer is an apt description. Do me a favor and go light on the Tabasco sauce this time, the last time you cooked breakfast for me, I had indigestion for a full 12 hours." Catching a glimpse of the grin on the younger man's face she decided that there was a need for supervision in the kitchen area. "I'm going to give him a hand." She called back over her shoulder. Straightening her form fitting beige pants as she traversed the room, she made her way into the small cooking area and took up residence beside the Texan in front of the stove.

"Drink up." Grissom instructed, at the same time passing Sara a glass of orange juice.

Dark eyes met blue as she accepted the glass from him and swallowed a mouthful. "Thanks."

"It'll tide you over until you get some food into your stomach." Grissom dropped onto the ottoman in front of the couch and took the glass after she gulped some more and then passed it back to him. Their hands brushed against each other causing a spark of passion to flit across both their faces.

Sara directed her eyes away from him, the intensity in his bright blue orbs proving too much for her. "You don't have to stay you know. You really should go home. I think Nick is going to stick around and help me with the paperwork I have to sift through, and Greg will be here later as you said." She brought her gaze to meet his briefly, but only so she could impart on him that she was serious. "You need to get some sleep." His face looked weary even to the casual observer. To Sara, she could tell that that was only the tip of the iceberg. He was squinting almost painfully at times, and when someone raised their voice or laughed too hard, she was able to pick up a twinge of pain on his face. A migraine was probably not far off. Her voice dropped. "Plus I can spot the signs of a migraine a mile away. Go home, take your medication, and sleep through it."

The caring in her eyes was almost his undoing. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that sleeping without her was impossible. And since she'd left it was something that was almost unheard of. He threw a glance in the Catherine and Nick's direction and noting that the twosome was busy arguing over making the perfect omelet, he then reached out and caressed one smoothed cheek. "I can't."

Sara closed her eyes against his touch, and allowed herself to revel in it for a moment before reaching out, and taking his hand in hers. She squeezed it lightly. "You have to. It just makes it harder if I can't believe you are happy and moving on."

"Then I'm sorry. I can't lie about this, any more."

Sara sighed and let his hand go as she saw Nick turn and make his way back to her, plate and cutlery in hand. "Food for the princess…" He announced with a smirk.

"I made sure he didn't put Tabasco in yours." Cath announced from across the room "You'll thank me later." She added with a tight laugh. "Gil," she waved an empty plate in his direction. "Do you want onion in yours?"

"I'm not going to have any." He stood and smiled at Nick. "I'm going to go, but…" He added. "I'll be back before work."

"Ah… Okay…" Cath nodded from the kitchen, surprised by Grissom's sudden desire to leave. "You alright? You look a little gray…"

Grissom shook his head. "Bit of a headache coming on."

"Get some sleep then." The blonde advised, flipping a perfectly formed omelet onto plate.

"I will." He nodded in the other woman's direction and then directed his next comment to Nick as he walked to the front door. "Keep a close eye on her, and don't leave her alone for a second. You know how effective a police presence can be."

"Don't worry boss." Nick meant what he said. If nothing else, he fully respected the fact that the man obviously still cared deeply for Sara. "I'll take care of her."

"Cath, I'm going to have Brass put someone on your place too. If the perpetrator is bold enough to put a rock through your window, you need to be watched as well."

The blonde woman sighed heavily. "I suppose that's a good idea. Not so much for me. It's just I worry about my mom and Lindsay." Sliding another omelet onto a plate, she nodded her head. "I have to say, though, it looks like most of the person's attention has shifted to Sara at this point."

"…Which is interesting, since it appears to be only the female members of our team that are being threatened." Grissom rubbed his temples lightly against the burgeoning strength of his headache. "Unless there's something else you're not telling me…"

"No…" Nick tossed out as he moved back into the kitchen to unplug the boiling kettle. "None of the guys have had a problem." Snatching a cup from the cupboard, he poured the boiling water into the cup and then added the tea ball he'd prepared.

Grissom seemed to accept this. "Call me if there's a problem." He warned and then turned to leave. "And Sara…" He added. "Take it easy." With that he opened the door, and left.

Once the door was closed, Catherine wandered over to the ottoman and placed both her and Nicky's omelet there.

The Texan placed a teacup on the ottoman, lifted Sara's feet, and dropped onto the couch beside her, before placing her feet in his lap. Then he watched the older woman and waited.

"I didn't want to tell him the truth about where I found the shoe nub." She scooped the egg onto a fork and took a mouthful, savoring it as both Sara and Nick did the same. "That would mean another round of justifications that would have us here until a week Tuesday." She said by way of explanation. "The shoe, by the way, is a female size 8 Nike air."

"Well that sure as hell cuts the field down to a manageable number." Nick cut and chewed on another piece of egg. "So how many women at the lab have size 8 feet?" He eyed Sara's toes and grinned. "Sara doesn't…" A pillow in the head later, he was still laughing.

"Tall girl, long feet…" The slim brunette put forth. There was a smirk on her face despite her attempt at looking insulted.

"Yeah wait until after the baby's born, then they'll be wide too…" She smiled at the younger woman. "You're feet spread to help carry the baby. Mine grew a full size with Lindsay."

A small groan exited the brunette. "Well mine are size 10, for now." She added and then grinned at the Texan who had placed both a pillow and his plate on top of her legs. "But yours look a little small for a man's… and you know what they say about the size of a man's feet, doncha Nicky?"

"Yeah they have no bearing on the size of anything else at all." He chewed the last bit of egg and grinned lasciviously. "And you should know that first hand, Sugarbritches." He took another throw pillow to the head, before responding. "Mine are size 11, for your information…which, I might add, is average for a guy."

"Well you two are sickeningly cute…" Catherine, who'd been watching the entire display with something of an envious eye, took another bite of her egg and washed it down with a tepid mouthful of coffee. "And in answer to your question, sizes 8 to 9 are actually average for woman and realistically speaking a lot of women at the lab could have that shoe size, but you know, despite what Brass says, I have a feeling my initial suspicions were right." The blonde grimaced.

"And they would be?" Sara asked; taking a sip of the tea Nick had prepared for her.

"I think its Grissom's betrothed…"

Sara looked darkly at the older woman. "You don't think that that's maybe a little wishful thinking on your behalf?"

"All of our behalves, actually." Nick cast a glance at the pretty brunette.

"Hell yeah. It's most definitely wishful thinking, but that's not all. If you think about it, most of this stuff started around the time she joined graveyard." Catherine swigged her coffee and stared at the other two CSIs.

"I'm sure there are other women who started at the lab around the same time…" Nick added, doing his best to play devil's advocate. It was difficult task, especially when you didn't particularly like the person you were trying to defend.

"I don't see why she would bother." Sara stretched sideways, placed her plate on the ottoman, and grabbed the tea, at the same time doing her best not to jostle the pillow on her legs. "I mean she pretty much has it made." She took a thoughtful sip. "I mean she's on a great team, pretty much has run of the house, she's Ecklie's suck up. Plus as much as it galls me to admit it, she's an okay investigator."

"And she's bangin' the boss." Catherine further expanded on the young woman's list. "But the fact remains. She's a bitch. At every turn, since we started working together, she's been abrasive, competitive, kinda like one of those mean girls in school who digs at you when, they know they can't get in trouble." Catherine leaned back into the chair. "But I noticed, she tries to be nice to the guys on the team."

Sara Sidle nodded knowingly. "Yeah. Been there. Thought it as just me she hated." She shrugged. "I sometimes evoke that emotion in people."

Catherine grinned. "Never hatred. Sometimes, intense frustration… But only occasionally."

"You're right though." Nick grabbed Grissom's untouched coffee and gulped it. "She's always sweet as pie to Warrick, Greg and I." He placed his plate on top of Sara's. "None of us bought it though. She's always been a little too nice, if you know what I mean."

The two women nodded.

"But all this doesn't amount to a hill of beans." Nick relaxed back into the couch, his hand inadvertently coming to rest across one of Sara's flannel clad pant legs. "I mean being a two faced bitch, isn't motivation or proof of anything other than a major character flaw."

"True. And I've had Brass check into her whereabouts at the time of the incidences. Some of them, I know myself, occurred on days she was off, or elsewhere. But someone who knows the lab would know where the blind spots are, and how to get in and out without being seen." Catherine stared grimly at the young couple.

"Plus even if she was spotted no one would think it unusual. Not only does she work there, but her fiancé is there, so coming by on her day off wouldn't be a stretch." At the use of the word fiancé, Nick had placed his hand over Sara's and squeezed slightly.

"Right, and there was only so far Jim could dig without letting Gris in on what was going on. I mean outright questions would have been met with more questions from Gil, himself." Catherine added.

"So what you're saying is that he couldn't be as thorough as would have liked." Nick finished the thought for her.

"That's an understatement. Jim did his best, and pretty much said outright that he managed to confirm the fact that she was away from the lab on some of the dates, but I would have liked to have a background check run and her whereabouts known for sure." Catherine confirmed. "I'd also like the opportunity to check her shoe closet, but that would require a warrant or Grissom's permission. Neither will be coming any time soon."

"I can help with that…" Sara said before thinking.

"What do you mean?" Catherine's eyes practically lit up.

The slim brunette looked from the blonde woman back to Nick, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut. "I have a key to Grissom's townhouse."

Catherine Willows' eyebrows practically hit her hairline.

"But it's a stupid idea. Anything we find wouldn't be usable in a court of law." The slim brunette quickly followed up.

"Screw the court of law. I want to know if she's the one behind it. If she is then we'll know what we're up against, and maybe what to look for. Then we'll fucking bury her."

The two younger CSIs had never seen Catherine quite so vehement. "Uh… Okay…" Nick looked at Sara. "So are you proposing one of us sneak into Grissom's place and take a look around?"

"Yes." Catherine jumped at the idea.

"No." Sara said immediately.

The other two people in the room looked at her quizzically.

"I'll go." She was resolute.

"Wait. If this woman is the one who tried to cook you. Then you are NOT going there alone." Nick countered.

"I'll be perfectly safe."

"How's that?" Catherine queried. "And how exactly did you get the key to the Lord and Master's apartment?"

"Oh…I used to feed his roaches when he went to conventions." It wasn't a lie so she didn't feel terribly guilty. Originally he'd asked her one day that he was desperate. A day or two was okay to leave them without food, but he was going to one particularly long convention and didn't trust leaving them for the whole week. He'd given her the key then, and she'd given it back when he returned. The key she was presently in possession of was something that she had yet to hand over since the demise of their relationship, and also very telling was the fact that her former lover hadn't asked for either. "You know, this doesn't have to be covert at all. I'll grab Greg and go when you are all at work." She smiled. "I left a book there when he went to the Sacramento Forensics and Anthropology forum a few months ago. Gris hasn't been able to find it and I've asked him a few times. I'll just tell him I'm bored and going to go over and look for it. I don't think he'll mind."

"He won't want you out." Nick reminded her. "And neither do I, for that matter. We're not certain that Alicia is behind this and taking Greg along for the ride won't be much help if someone comes after you."

"I think I'm insulted for Greg." Sara tried to make light of the situation.

Exasperated, Nick shook his head adamantly. "Don't play games, Sara. This is serious. You need to think beyond yourself now, and not take any risks."

The slim brunette pursed her lips. It irked her to know that he was right, it irked her even more to have to admit it. "I'll be safe, promise. In and out. Greg will be with me."

"Yeah, so will I." He eyed Catherine for support. "I'll take a lunch at some point. I'll come with you."

Sara shook her head. "That's really not necessary. I'll be fine. I'll be in Greg's capable hands."

"I think that's what he's afraid of." The blonde woman added to the fray.

"Seriously, Sara I don't want you going anywhere until I can come with you." Nick leveled her with a stare.

"Guys, this is ridiculous." She tried to reason with them.

"I have a brand new Toyota locked in the CSI garage that says otherwise, buttercup." The young Texan shook his head, and refused to give up any ground in the argument.

She was going to fight him, but the beginning strains of nausea had begun to shift their way through her GI system. Placing her head back against the pillows she closed her eyes. "Fine…whatever."

"Are you still dizzy?" Catherine asked; concern etched into her face.

"No…" Sara's words invariably dripped with sarcasm. "I'm nauseated instead, oh lucky me…"

Nick and the older woman couldn't help, but exchange smirks.

"I just wish my body would make up its mind. I'm hungry. I eat. Then I get nauseated and I throw it all up." She lifted her head and glared at the twosome. "This bites…"

"Oh don't worry, Sara… Only another 8 months to go…" The blonde woman drew herself to her feet and then patted the younger woman's shoulder on her way by. "I should be getting home." She snatched up her purse from where she left it near the door. "Just let me know what you decide to do about the recon mission."

A moan escaped the slim brunette.

"Will do." Nick followed Catherine to the door and locked it behind her after she'd left. "What do you say we get started on some of your paperwork?" The Texan turned only to find an abandoned couch and distant retching emanating from the bathroom.

* * *

Vegas was filled with both ostentatious and gaudy hotels. During the years he'd worked in the city of sin, he'd visited almost every single one of them, big or little for some kind of death or murder investigation. That is, all, except for one. It was a newer place, very small in comparison to most of the hotels the dotted the city, and pretty clean by normal standards. 

It was called the Atrium, and at the moment Gil Grissom stood, head seriously pounding, in front of the check in desk and accepted the key from the clerk poised behind it.

"Do you need help with your luggage, Mr. Grissom?" The slight blonde smiled invitingly at him, also noting, as he turned, that his bags consisted of a small carry on only.

"No thanks." Distracted, he spun and headed for the bank of elevators in the middle of the lobby, his eyes falling on the vibrating phone in his hand. Reading the name on the small screen he hit the power button and watched as it faded into black before stepping onto the elevator. A cool dark room was calling his name from the 6th floor.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

AN: Took some time courtesy of Santa's impending arrival! But here's the next installment of this strangely horrible tale. Not beta'd… as per usual… Please forgive any mistakes. Thank you for the reviews, they really do push me to ignore the other stuff in my life and continue writing this twisted GSR… Without further ado… hope you like it and alllll that.

**Chapter 19**

"This is a really bad idea." Greg cast a covert glance back over his shoulder, but couldn't hide the trembling of his hands. He shoved them in his pockets as the young woman in front of him disarmed the town house's alarm.

"I'm telling you. I have Grissom's okay." Once the alarm pad turned green, Sara pulled the key from her pocket. She didn't actually have his okay, but she'd left a message on his cell telling him of her intent, and knew that he wouldn't mind her going there, _normally_. One small thing that she'd chosen to ignore, was the fact that she was doing it without Nick's accompaniment, and despite strict orders from Grissom, that she stay in the safety of her own home.

"Sure you do…" The former lab tech sounded seriously unconvinced.

"Do I look like the type to break and enter? Aside from which, if I wasn't allowed to be here why would I have a key?" She dangled the item in question in front of Greg and grinned.

He still looked unconvinced. "Tell me why we're here again?"

"I left a book here the last time I came to feed his roaches. He hasn't been able to find it, but with all of the books he owns it's not surprising. He has a maid that comes in to tidy up. I suspect she put it somewhere." Sara slipped the key in the lock, a feeling of melancholy washing over her as she swung the door open silently.

"Grissom has a maid?" The younger man's chin hit the floor.

"Yeah. Once a week she comes to do some basic stuff. I ran into her one time I was feeding the roaches." She moved into the main room, intimate moments flitting through her head.

"He just doesn't seem the type to allow someone to paw through his secret lair…"

Sara couldn't help but laugh at this. "Secret lair? Do you hear yourself Greg?"

The younger man shrugged.

"Besides, Della doesn't paw through anything she just cleans, mostly." At first glance it appeared that things hadn't changed much since the last time she was there. Only a few things were scattered about that indicated Alicia's presence; a floral sweater thrown over one of the breakfast bar chairs, and a pair of stilettos near the door, but for the most part Grissom appeared not to have made any concessions for his soon-to-be wife and their child.

Slipping the key back into her pocket, Sara moved towards the book case, doing her best to make it appear as though she was genuinely looking for a book. She actually was, but it wasn't something that would be readily found in Grissom's public collection, unless it truly had been put there by accident…something she thought highly unlikely since he'd promised he'd looked.

"So what's the title and why is it so important that we get it back?" Greg had followed her in and wandered over to look at a huge wall to wall set of mahogany shelves that was crammed with all manner of reading materials.

"It's the Kama Sutra, depicted with glorious full color photos." She grinned as the young man turned a vivid shade of red.

"You're kidding me, right?" Greg nodded knowingly. "I get it, its torture Greg day. This is because you're bored of being stuck at home under house arrest and you're making me pay." He eyed her suspiciously. "So what's the real title?"

Sara looked at him bold faced and repeated the title. "And I'm deadly serious here, and the truth is I never actually told Grissom the title. I had it with me at the beginning of the week he went away I stopped in picked up his mail, fed the roaches, forgot it, and when I came back it was gone I figured the maid had hidden it thinking it was his. I asked him if he'd seen a book lying around that wasn't his. He said he hadn't." She shrugged, doing her best not to meet the younger man's gaze. She hated lying but the truth was that much more deadly.

Greg stared at her wide eyed.

"What?" She bent over and opened a set of cupboards at the bottom of the shelves. There were more books tucked away in there. "I have to check the closet too. I think I left a track top that day, as well. It's been missing ever since."

"I'm still trying to picture Grissom reading the Kama Sutra, and then working on the positions with Alicia…" He shivered visibly and shook his head. "I think I'm going to need a lobotomy, now, to get _that_ vision out of my head."

Sara rolled her eyes trying desperately not to think of the same thing but for an entirely different reason; one that had everything to do with the pain in her heart.

"I've got to ask; what were you thinking bringing a book like that over here?" Greg started his search on the other side and began under the cupboard as well.

"I was probably thinking about the inversion…" She grinned evilly. "Great position, although, the Cobra has its definite pluses, too."

Greg's mouth opened to say something, but then he closed it again.

"What? You can't tell me you're not into the Kama Sutra, Greg…" She closed the cupboard, grabbed a nearby chair, and climbed on top of it. "With that new girlfriend of yours? Its essential reading." She winked.

"Ha… surely you jest…" He closed the cupboard he'd been looking in and stood up his eyes running over the collection of texts in front of him. "I haven't been able to keep a girlfriend for more than a week since I started this job."

"What happened to the waitress at The Copa? I thought she was perfect…" Sara rambled off the description the young man had plied her with less than a week ago. "Long, leggy brunette with a thing for guys in uniform…"

"Yeah, that was any guy in a uniform. Apparently, she's slept with half of PD. I was afraid of catching something from her."

"That's what protection's for Greg." The slender brunette was animatedly, pulling out books and shoving them back in.

"I would have to wrap my whole body in condoms to ensure safety."

Sara couldn't help but laugh at that, it was quite a vision. "I sense working in DNA has ruined you."

"Working this job has ruined me. And my love life." He stood quietly for a moment and then added. "I think I will borrow that book if we find it… Is there a section in there on self pleasure?"

The young woman let out a tight guffaw at that and shook her head. "That's it. I'm leaving you here." She climbed down off the chair and turned towards the hallway. "I'm going to go into his office there are some more shelves in there. Keep searching here."

"Hey that's not fair; you get to look in the fun places…" The former lab tech's voice trailed off as Sara made her way down the hall, past the office and into Grissom's room. The musky sleepy smell of him assaulted her as she slid the door closed behind her and flicked on the bedside lamp.

There was very little time for reminiscences. Removing a small camera from her pocket she pulled her thoughts from their time together and quickly made her way to the closet. Opening the wardrobe, she searched for shoes that belonged to Alicia and came up empty handed. Instead in the back of the closet shoved into a black bag she discovered the book she was actually looking for. She hadn't been lying when she told Greg the title. It was the origin of it, which had been the white lie. The book on Kama Sutra had actually been a gift from Grissom, one that had been left behind upon her hasty exit the morning after their child's conception. Sara's palm grazed her abdomen, as she reached into the bag and pulled out the book. It was an odd place to find it, since she'd left it in the bedside table. Perhaps she was correct in assuming Della had hidden it. The woman's sensibilities bordered on the fanatically religious. She realized her mistake almost immediately as she flipped it open and took a cursory glance through. An instant cold ran through her veins, and she was horrified by what she saw. Swallowing hard she slammed it closed, carefully placed the dangling tail of the delicate crystal book mark along the binding and then she shoved it back into the bag. Closing her eyes against the images now burned into her brain, she dropped the item as if it was on fire and continued her search of the closet. She needed to show it to Nick as soon as possible.

The absence of Alicia's belongings in Grissom's room spoke clearly.

Obviously, he hadn't let her move into the bedroom, which left the office or a small guest room that Grissom used for his bugs. Exiting that space, she moved to the office, her eyes quickly scanning the jammed space. All of Grissom's insects and collections had made a migration into his office leaving little doubt as to which room was Alicia's. She flicked off the light and hurriedly made her way towards the former bug room.

It was a no-brainer once she hit the end of the hallway. The small guest room was definitely the place to which Alicia had been banished. The overwhelming smell of cheap perfume had permeated the short corridor even before she reached the door and the stench grew threefold the minute she cracked open the door. Shaking off the nausea caused by the heady floral scent she stepped in and scanned the small space.

Decorated in gaudy pinks and purples that were far from the moody blue green that had once highlighted the walls, Sara could only imagine Grissom's face as he'd been force to accept the change. Most of the white washed pine furniture appeared cheap, and older, likely something that had belonged to Alicia before her cohabitation with Grissom. Even the bed, though seemingly newer than the other items, added to the feeling of low class bordello. A thick and brightly colored bedspread lay crumpled in the middle of the very same bed, amidst a pile of discarded clothes.

Doing her best to put aside her judgment and emotion, Sara moved through the place as she would a crime scene. Short on time, she slim brunette headed straight for closet and tugged open the door. There was an avalanche of clothes shoved in there along side an equally impressive pile if shoes. Most of them were dress shoes so that made her work a little easier. Slowly and meticulously she dismantled the pile in such a way that she could easily put it together. Coming across the first sneaker she noted that it was an Adidas, but flipped it over and photographed it anyway. She did this with three other pairs, none of them Nikes and then reassembled the pile to the best of her ability, before moving on to check the darkened corners of the closet and then the few bags that the young woman had left scattered about the floor and the upper shelf of the closet.

It was obvious from the amount of workout gear that Alicia was into exercise or jogger, of some sort, so Sara decided that it would be best to check the front closet too. Standing up, the lanky brunette's hair caught on the long sleeve of a light track top; the smell immediately drawing her attention to it. Made of a dark grey material, it would have been next to impossible to spot the grease on the cuff it if wasn't for the small flashlight Sara had pulled from her pocket. The black smear combined with the faint scent of gasoline sent a chill up Sara's spine.

It was a bold move, but she did it anyway. Pulling the track top off the hanger, Sara tucked it under her arm to make it barely visible, and did a cursory check under the bed and in the corners of the room for any more shoes. There were no others so she set the room up as it had been before her invasion and tugged the door tightly shut behind her.

Quickly, she covered the distance of the hallway, and stopped into the office, Placing the bag with the book in it on the desk and taping it shut with a several strips of duct tape from Grissom's drawer, she tore a small hole in it and then walked back out into the living room, hurriedly passing Greg and tugging open the door to the closet. "I found it." She announced spotting several more pairs of running shoes there and flipped the track top into the back of the closet before her accomplice saw it.

"You did?" Greg had managed to get three quarters of the way across the wall of books.

"Yeah…" She rubbed her head. "Shit! Sorry, I left it in Gris' office. Can you get it? It's on the desk, inside a black plastic bag. I found it in one of the shelf cupboards. The bag was taped shut." she added.

"Taped shut? How do you know it's the right book?"

"I opened it a little and spotted my book mark, and the cover. It's readily recognizable. His maid is an old time, die hard, puritanical Christian… Sex is a sin." The young woman grinned.

"Bad place for her to live since that's what sells in Vegas." Greg commented and was already headed towards the hallway; there was an excited air about him that died immediate\ely at the young woman's next words.

"First room on your right Greg, and stay out of the other two or I'll tell Gris." Sara added with a smirk.

"Party pooper." He called out.

The minute he was out of sight. Sara quickly grabbed the three pairs of shoes – all of which were different makes of Nike and flipped them over. Quickly snapping pictures of them, she immediately returned them to their exact position and rooted around the back of the small coat closet looking for more. A moment later she came up with a final pair, rapidly took photos of the bottom of each and tossed them back into the closet. She was in the midst of returning the camera to her pocket when Greg came back into the room.

"I found it." Sara announced and pulled herself up to her full height.

"Found what? I have the book." The young man asked as he crossed the room to join her.

"My track top." She held it up and waved it in his direction, at the same time reaching for the bag containing the book. "Let's put the chairs back and get out of here. We can hit Frank's for a bite and then run by the lab for a minute."

Greg was already returning the chairs to their original location. "No we're going back to your place. Someone has already tried to kill you. I was told not to let you out and the only reason I did is because you said Grissom knew, and his place was close, and fast. I don't want to be scooping up decomps for the rest of my life so we're not going to the lab, or to get food."

Sara rolled her eyes but didn't argue; instead she passed him the bag, which she'd now stuffed with the track top, as well, and waited until he'd followed her out. Turning she locked the door behind her and set the alarm to on.

"You know Grissom's apartment is a lot like him…" Greg commented absently, as Sara bumped past him on their way out of the building.

"What do you mean?" She looked at him curiously.

"I dunno, kinda sterile." The young CSI shrugged. "You know. Like there's not a lot of color. I guess I'd call it low key."

"Grissom is not what he seems. Just remember that Greg." At this comment she sped up. "He may seem fairly low key, but that's just because he keeps his emotions under wraps."

He looked at her speculatively. "He has emotions?"

"Almost everyone has emotions- unless they're a psycho or sociopath, but they don't always put them on display for the world to see." Scooting down the stairs almost a full flight ahead of the young man, she pushed the door open at the bottom and made short work of the lobby.

"Where's the fire?" He asked, as Sara popped the locks on the truck and ran around to climb into the driver's seat. Greg was still patting his pockets trying to figure out how the hell she'd gotten the keys from him, when the engine revved to life.

Rolling the window down Sara smiled at the younger man and called out a slightly out of breath. "Hop in."

Squinting at her, he slumped animatedly and plastered his best puppy dog look on his face. "I am going to be in so much shit." He lamented as he climbed into the passenger's side, dropped the bag on the seat between them and belted himself in.

Her chest hurt. A run that short would never have been enough to wind her normally but in light of the smoke damage to her lungs, she almost felt light headed for a moment. Actively slowing her breathing she put the car in gear and pulled out from in front of the building.

When they'd traveled a block, and Greg realized that his sulking was getting him nowhere, he turned to the woman beside him. "Okay so how did you get the keys from me? I'm sure they were in my pocket."

Sara winked at him, and turned onto the street leading to the lab. "I pick pocketed you."

"When?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"In the hallway…" She grinned at him, pleased at the lack of traffic on the streets. It was well after midnight, but that meant nothing in Vegas. Fortunately, the lingering heat of the day must have sent most of the people scampering for refuge in the well air-conditioned hotels. "…When I bumped into you." She added.

"Handy skill." He frowned, as she sped into the lab parking lot. "I thought we were going to Frank's first. You mean I don't even get a last supper?"

"It would probably be closer to breakfast, and we won't be here long we can grab a bite after if you want." Sara replied moving along to the back of the building to reach the employee parking

"No I want to go back to your place, where we're supposed to be." Greg intoned with a whine. "And clearly you've missed the concept of _LAST_ supper…"

"Grissom won't kill you, don't worry." The slim brunette assured him swiping the Denali's key card through the private parking gate.

"Maybe not, because it's against the law, but you can bet I'll be picking through dumpsters and babysitting decomps for a good six months." Greg scowled. His last one had been particularly putrid.

"Consider it a learning experience…" Sara commented. Parking well away from the charred and blackened spot where her car had once sat, she turned off the vehicle and moved to get out, clutching the bag under her arm as she did so.

"Yeah, I'll learn not to let you bump into me ever again. No matter how pleasant the contact…" He called out as she ignored the blackened pavement under her feet and then rapidly climbed the stairs.

The young woman rolled her eyes at this and tugged the door to the lab open, hoping to God either Nick or Catherine were there.

Greg still busy was busy practicing his excuses when he heard Grissom's voice from clear down the hallway.

"What are you doing here?" The condescension in his voice bounced along the corridor from his office and he was on his feet immediately. He nailed the younger CSI with a scathing look, as he passed him by and grabbed Sara by the arm.

She smiled lamely at him. "I just came by to say hi. I'm going stir crazy at home."

"Sara…" he glared at the former lab tech, who simply shrugged.

There was no way the younger man was going to say anything to Grissom about being in his apartment unless slim brunette brought it up. "She pick pocketed me." He said by way of an explanation.

The nightshift supervisor simply shook his head and led her rather forcefully towards his office. Slightly panicked about the book, she passed the bag to Greg, who was trailing reluctantly along behind the twosome.

The former lab rat wasn't all that surprised or disappointed when the door to his boss' office slammed closed in his face. Instead, he tucked the book under his arm and turned to go visit Archie in AV, leaving Sara and Grissom to whatever was going to happen next.

* * *

"I thought I told you to stay home?" Grissom glared at the young woman now seated in his guest chair.

"I take it you didn't get my message." She said calmly.

"What message?" He grabbed the pile of pink papers off his desk and waved them in her direction. "Three from the sheriff, one from Brass, and one from Catherine…"

"Your cell phone." She said matter-of-factly. "It was personal." She added by way of explanation at the same time tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh…" He tugged it out of his pocket and depressed the power button. It sprang to life immediately, a loud beep indicating he had 47 messages waiting. He sighed. "Do you care to tell me what was said or are you going to make me listen through all of the messages on my phone?"

"How many do you have?" She smirked and then winced immediately when he held the screen up for her to see. "That can't be good. Who in the hell were you trying to avoid?"

His tired blue eyes bore into her indicating she should already know the answer to that question. Alicia had shown up work absolutely livid. She'd tried to corner him in his office first, but thankfully Brass had interrupted, and then when she decided to attempt a conversation with him in the break room. He'd literally ignored her, and passed her a solo decomp out at the landfill, in response. This was much to the amusement of everyone watching.

Gathering the meaning of his look, a sudden chill tracked up Sara's spine. Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave herself a slight hug. The lab was somewhat warm, and she was wearing a long sleeved maroon t-shirt and jeans, but it did nothing to stem the chill. Her first inclination was to tell him he needed to try harder with Alicia, but after finding the book and the track top, she wasn't sure that that was sage advice, whether or not the woman was carrying Grissom's child. "I see." She smiled softly at him. "Well the message said I was going to go by your place to find my book."

He looked both astounded and angry. "Today? You had to do that today…? Sara someone tried to kill you yesterday. Possibly someone here…" He indicated the collection of files spread across his desk. They were the familiar bright blue folders used by HR. "You can't be doing this."

"All of that stuff is online, you didn't have to pull the files." She pointed out; trying her best to redirect his attention. It was an impossible task at the best of times, and a wholly unsuccessful technique on her behalf.

"Stop avoiding the issue." He ordered, but there was no vehemence in his words. Leaning up against the desk he bent over and ran one thick finger along the creamy skin of her cheek. "I don't want you to get hurt. I couldn't live with myself if anything were to happen to you." His cerulean eyes spoke volumes. "Even if you've moved on." The last sentence was said with so much sadness that Sara's heart clenched.

So he'd accepted the façade of she and Nick...

Doing her best not to deny it, she shook her head. "Grissom, I can't live my life in fear." She admonished him gently, despite the strains of that very same emotion running through her. At that moment, with the press of his skin on hers, and the pain in his eyes, she was tempted to tell him everything. In fact she'd opened her mouth to say the words when the door to his office burst open, and in stomped a severely aggravated redhead.

"This is a shit job you know…" There was fire in her eyes, as they fell on Sara. Normally, another body in the room would have been enough to deter her anger since; her delicate house of cards was built on the illusion of perfection, but this time was not to be the case. "Anyone else here would have had help out there, but you sent me by myself." She slammed on perfectly manicured finger into her own chest.

"It's the nature of the job, Alicia, and I can't play favorites. Greg did his turn at dumpster diving last week. Catherine had two the week before, and Nick and Warrick did a double decomp out at that farm last week as well. It's nothing personal, but it is your turn." He glared at her, although his voice was steady as he tried to explain. "According to your human resources file, you've been a CSI for 4 years, surely you know the way things work. And because we're engaged…" He almost had to choke the word out. "That's all the more reason for me to spread the love around – I can't be accused of any impropriety otherwise you'll find yourself on a totally different shift." It was a situation that sounded great to him actually, but he tossed it out to her knowing full well that it would be seen as the threat that it was.

"I'm pregnant, carrying our child." She wagged a finger in his direction, but her voice softened as if his words had actually made some sense to her. "I'm not asking for special favors, just a little consideration for now until the baby comes. It can't be healthy for me or the baby to be out rolling around in garbage, and breathing all those fumes in." She pointed out trying to use a different tact on the unyielding Grissom.

"Then quit and stay home," was his response. He picked up the employee manual, that he'd grabbed from HR, as well. "In here it says the only special treatment afforded a pregnant CSI, is the right to abstain from field work during her last trimester, plus the right to refuse to work around certain known unhealthy chemicals that are a part of the investigative process." At this he actually flipped the page open to a tabbed off section of the policy manual. "It explains that when in situations where potential harm is a concern, always wear a mask, appropriate attire, and most importantly double glove."

Taking this as an opportunity to get out from under the questioning guise of Gil Grissom and remove herself the overwhelming stink of the other woman, Sara stood up, walked past the younger woman and waved from the doorway. "I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon. I'll be back to work tomorrow night." She informed him and hurriedly moved off down the lab corridor doing her best not to leave a trail of vomit.

"Sara wait…" Grissom dropped the binder onto his desk, and was on his feet immediately. He made it a few feet towards the door, only to be stopped by a fuming, red headed CSI.

"I bet if it was anyone else, you would have grounded them to the lab at the first mention of a positive pregnancy test."

"Alicia," He sighed, knowing his next words were more than a little unkind. "If it was anyone else this point would be moot because neither Sara or Catherine would be in here complaining about doing their job, nor would they expect special treatment because they managed to get themselves pregnant."

Alicia's face turned a scarlet comparable to the color of her hair. Her green eyes were blazing, but before she could take off on another tirade Grissom pulled himself up to his full height and returned her glare. "Look, you managed to get what you wanted here. We are working the same shift. I've opened my home up to you. I have offered to allow you to stay home both before and after you have the child. I am taking financial responsibility for both of you. I have agreed to marry you and be a father to this child. I have held back on assigning you certain cases in the past out of concern for your safety, only to be reprimanded for seeming to play favorites. I have put my career on the line here, and given in to most of your demands. What else do you want from me?"

A death glare literally shot from her eyes. "Absolutely, fucking, nothing." With that she turned and stomped out of his office. It took the redhead only a few minutes to find the person she was looking for. After doing a cursory check of most of the labs, she headed for the one place most moms-to-be spend a lot of time in.

Sara was exiting the washroom stall when the younger woman burst in. Upon spotting her prey, the CSI jammed her finger into the slim brunette's chest inadvertently pinning her up against the mirror. "You cheap bitch, stay away from my fiancé, with your poor-little-me routine or you'll regret the day you met me."

"What the hell is going on in here?" Catherine Willow's voice rang out, and both women turned to see her standing in the open doorway.

"Nothing." Alicia commented darkly and then angrily pushed her way past the blonde and out into the corridor.

"You okay?" Catherine moved into the bathroom and made her way over to a rather green looking Sara Sidle.

"She's pretty rank." She placed her trembling hands over her mouth and ran into a nearby stall. A moment later she reappeared, dabbing her lips with a piece of toilet paper.

Catherine eyed her speculatively. "What was she yelling at you about?"

Sara shook her head and shrugged. "She thinks I'm after Grissom or something."

Confusion played across the older woman's face for a moment and then she nodded. "She's a nut bag." The both women shared a tight grin and then the older of the two placed her hands on her hips and looked at her gravely. "Okay, so what are you doing here? I thought you were under strict orders…" She recounted the commands that had been given earlier that morning. "Stay home, go nowhere especially without the accompaniment of a certain attractive Texan."

"Yeah… well, as you know Nick was called out and I got impatient. My freedom is seriously compromised by the fact that someone is out to get me. I wanted to do what I could, and I'm tired of waiting. If I have to rely on the lull of the criminal element of Las Vegas to allow you guys some free time, then I could be under lockdown for years." She gazed at the blonde solemnly.

Deciding to forgo the lecture on safety that was dancing through her mind, Catherine bobbed her well coiffed head. "Okay… So what did you find at Grissom's place?"

A visible tremor passed through the tall brunette as her mind flitted back to the book. "Something pretty scary, actually…" She moved towards the door. "We need to find Greg."

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

A/N: Okay Christmas holidays toyed with my time - sorry – couldn't disappoint the family and spend the last few days on this thing – despite the desire to do so. Though I must say, this particular chapter was probably ready to be posted yesterday… However, I didn't want to do this to you on Christmas day… As I always say… unbeta'd so forgive me. Thank you so much for your reviews – they are kind and highly motivating; one or two bad words in here nothing more. Please forgive me. **IF YOU GET NOTIFICATION AGAIN FOR THIS CHAPTER IT'S ONLY BECAUSE I CAME BACK IN TO FIX A FEW TYPOS... SORRY!**

**Chapter 20**

"I need a drink…" Sara was still moderately shaken over the encounter with Alicia. Not that she was physically afraid of her, because face-to-face in hand to hand combat she knew she could kick the red heads ass, but rather because the vehemence from the Grissom's betrothed only proved to feed the overwhelming feeling dread she'd experienced back in the apartment. And then there was the book…It was something she needed to sort through with Nick ASAP and quite possibly Grissom, too. She could already see her tenuous house of cards crumbling.

"Yeah, well I'll take you out for a celebratory beer, after you pop out the torpedo, until then you can forget it." Catherine commented, liberally, while Sara cast a furtive glance around the hallway to make sure no one was listening.

"That's not the kind of drink I'm talking about." She replied in a hushed tone, hoping Catherine would get the hint and keep her voice down. Though admittedly, the thought of a beer didn't sound all that bad to her ears. But thinking about the entire list of the dos and don'ts of pregnancy would only add to her frustration so she pushed it to the back of her mind. Instead, she sighed and turned into the break room leaving Catherine talking to herself momentarily.

Realizing she was alone in the hallway, the blonde woman turned to find Sara in front of the break room counter stuffing a tea ball full of the chamomile blend she was so fond of. She cursed under her breath and then followed the younger woman into the room.

"So what did you find at the apartment?"

Sara twisted the ball back together and then dropped it with a clang into her empty coffee cup. "I've got pictures of shoes for you." She reached into her pocket, pulled out the camera and passed it to Catherine. "I have no idea if any of them match what you're looking for. There were a few pairs of Nike and some other brands so I took pictures of them all." She nodded towards the SD card that Catherine had just extracted. "I couldn't tell if any of them were missing a piece. I had to rush with Greg there."

"That's fine. I'll analyze the treads myself when I upload them. I think the damn footprint has been burned into my brain. What size does she wear?"

Sara stopped for a moment and visualized the one of the shoes. Then she nodded. "Size eight. I also found something else."

A slow smile spread across the older woman's face. "Give it up then."

Sara grinned. "I found a track top in her bedroom closet, which smelled of gasoline, and has grease stains on the sleeve."

Catherine's eyes widened. "I can't believe she would actually leave something that incriminating in her closet, but it's closer to what we need. Where is it now?"

"Greg has it. It's in a bag with my book." The water was boiling in the kettle so Sara took it and poured it into the cup before addressing a concern that had been floating through her head. "I get why she may have kept it. It's a pricey top, Juicy Couture. If you're into fashion it would probably hurt to toss it. But aside from the likelihood of her missing it, we have one other problem."

"And that would be?"

Sara stirred her tea. "You mean except for the fact that it's inadmissible in court?" She shrugged, "Not much." Bringing the cup to her lips she sipped it and grimaced. Too hot.

"You told Grissom you were going over… He's the rightful owner of the place. You had his permission to search it." Feeling an energy dip coming on, the blonde woman grabbed her own cup from the cupboard and poured herself some coffee.

Sara's eyes dropped to her own mug, and she sniffed at Catherine's. "I hate you…" She mumbled but there was no intensity in her worlds.

"Ha…" The older woman waved her cup in the brunette's direction. "You'd thank me if you could taste this."

"Never mind, if it's caffeine it fits the bill." The younger woman retorted, staring enviously at Catherine's cup.

The former swing supervisor grinned and took a swig of the dishwater that passed as coffee and rolled her eyes. "Tsk Tsk…" Feeling a little sympathy for the mom to be, she reached into the fridge, pulled out a thick canvas lunch bag, and rummaged around inside it before hauling out her prize – a king sized chocolate bar.

Sara's eyes lit up.

"My PMS bar, but you might as well enjoy it; since you're going to be putting on a bit of weight, anyway…" The blonde passed the younger woman the chocolate.

"Yeah, it's just that kind of thinking that's going to have me bursting out of my clothes in no time." She remarked rather drolly, but couldn't resist breaching the package and snapping off a piece. One succulent mouthful later she'd passed Catherine back the rest of the bar, and was shaking her head at the offer to keep it. "Thanks but more than one bite will have me on a perpetual sugar high."

"Suit yourself." Catherine snagged a small piece for herself and then dumped it and the bag back into the fridge. Eyeing the rail thin CSI she figured it would take several hundred crates of chocolate to even bring her up to a normal weight. "And far be it for to lecture you, but you could stand to gain a few pounds and not all of it baby."

"Duly noted." Sara commented, her hand grazing the maroon material stretched over her taught abdomen. "But it would be a hell of a lot easier to do that if my body wasn't rebelling on me at every turn."

"True, welcome to mommyhood…" The blonde sent a sympathetic glance her way and then waved for the younger woman to follow. "Let's go take a look at that top."

Armed with hot liquid the two of them left the break room in search of Greg. It wasn't a difficult task since the moment they stepped out of the glass enclosed space they could hear his woops and laughter emanating from the AV lab. Less than a minute later, both Sara and Catherine were staring almost horrified at a huge naked woman, giving a man a third of her size a rather disgusting facial with her hairy nether regions.

"Bet that's not in the Kama Sutra…" Greg winked.

"Actually it is, but a far prettier rendition." The brunette smirked and sipped her tea as the guy on the screen seemed to go into overdrive.

"Man, he looks like he is having the time of his life…" Catherine flipped her head to the side to try and get a better angle on the action on screen. She cringed as one large and particularly jiggly flap of skin slapped the man in the face.

"That's sooo gross…" Archie commented; his face fully reflecting his repugnance.

"Hey some people get off on this stuff, Arch." Greg said, but he couldn't stop the laugh that escaped him

Pulling on her supervisor's air Catherine turned to the AV tech almost straight faced and asked. "Since when, is it acceptable to watch porn on the lab's equipment?"

"Oh… this isn't porn…" He stopped and stared at the screen a moment, and then shook his head. "I mean it is, but it's for a case. Day shift." He pointed to the case file lying beside the monitor. "The guy ended up dead. They found him in an ally outside of Bad Sally's brothel over on 5th."

"Let me guess…" Catherine rolled her eyes. "Asphyxia?"

Greg nodded and laughed. "Sorry…I know it's not funny a man's dead, but…" he pointed to the screen by way of explanation.

"Well at least he died happy…" Catherine couldn't help herself. The man on the screen did indeed look like he was having the time of his life.

The two women exchanged glances and shook their heads.

"We're going to trace." Sara announced grabbing the book bag that Greg had left perched on a nearby chair and heading out the door. "Is Hodges in?" She asked over her shoulder as they moved down the hallway.

"We'll run this, ourselves." Catherine was on her heels.

"He's not going to like that." Sara warned.

"Who cares?" The tone of her voice belied the fact that Catherine definitely didn't.

As it turned out, there was little to worry about. Called away to collect evidence on a rapist at PD, the lab suckup was long gone – leaving behind a note indicating his whereabouts and a threat pertaining to the use of his trace lab. Tossing the note in the garbage, Catherine popped the bag on the work table and yanked the top out of, while Sara dropped the blinds.

"Nice." She commented at the plush gray fabric with the Juicy logo embroidered into it. "Not really my style, but it's cute, and pretty damn expensive." Slipping into CSI mode, her gaze immediately dropped to the two sleeves. Picking them up, she sniffed them both and settled on the left sleeve. "Alicia's left handed isn't she?"

Sara nodded, silently and sipped her tea.

"Definitely gas." She reached for a magnifying glass and trained it on a dark part of the cuff. "And that looks like grease…" Dragging a pair of scissors from the drawer, Catherine was ready to cut a chunk out of the top when Sara stopped her, with a hand on her arm.

"I haven't photographed it yet. And I need to return it before she leaves here at the end of shift. If it means something to her, which we can believe is the case, because she didn't throw it out. Then she will certainly notice it's gone." Dropping her cup on the table, the slim brunette reached over and turned the cuff up. "She'll also notice if a part of the sleeve is gone. We should take a smaller swatch from the inside."

"I'm really not all that concerned about returning it to her."

"I am." Sara eyed the older woman. "Grissom might stand behind me when it comes to the part about having his permission to go there. But a search of her closet is a different thing entirely. Plus they are engaged. She's pregnant, and I…" She shrugged. "I dunno…regardless of anything else, he's a CSI and big on protocol, and this wasn't a clean search."

"If we can prove she tried to kill you, he'll have no choice but to accept it." Catherine argued.

"Proving it to Grissom and proving it in a court of law are two different things. Plus my reason for going there wasn't bogus, but a search of her room? That's wasn't exactly Kosher."

Catherine stopped and stared at the younger woman. "Her room?" The woman's hands immediately went to her hips and she waited for an explanation much like a mother would with a child when some wrong doing had been discovered.

"Well…" Sara closed her eyes and kicked herself mentally. "Yeah. I guess. I mean. Don't take it as it sounds."

"I knew something fishy was going on from the outset. Grissom NEVER jumps into things. Spontaneity doesn't even exist in his vocabulary. All of a sudden he's getting married, girlfriend is working here, and they have an uber Grissom on the way? Plus every time I try to broach the subject with him, I get shut out." She tapped her toe waiting for a full explanation. "Out with it."

Sara really couldn't agree on the spontaneity issue, because she knew from past experience with Grissom as her lover, that the opposite was actually true, but she nodded anyway. "There's really nothing to be out-with-it, about." The younger woman did her best to explain. "It looks as though he's turned his bug habitat into a room for her. But that doesn't mean their not sleeping together. Maybe she doesn't have room in his closet for her stuff so they put it in the spare room." That didn't explain the bed and the gaudy décor, but Catherine didn't know about any of that. "Besides, some men are old fashioned. Are afraid of having sex with a woman while she's pregnant because they think they can harm the baby…" She shook her head in frustration. "Who knows…"

"He's a scientist. He would know better." The blonde woman countered.

"He's a man too…Maybe it's an irrational fear. We all have those." Sara sipped her tea and cast her eyes to the side trying to stem some of the nausea she was beginning to feel and avoid the prying glare of the woman in front of her.

"You're a woman, Sara, are they sharing the same bed or not?" Catherine stared at her gravely.

"I honestly don't know." She was being truthful, she assured herself.

"Your gut instinct…" The older woman pressed, well aware that Sara wasn't telling her everything.

"Really, I have no clue." But her gut instinct was busy screaming NO! She stopped that train of though knowing full well that it was the still-in-love-with-Grissom part of her brain that was spouting what was little more than wishful thinking. She leveled the older woman with a gaze and shrugged. "Seriously Cath, this is Grissom we're talking about here. Does he ever really do anything, normal? I mean he races cockroaches, has a pet tarantula, and owns a really large ant colony."

The former swing shift supervisor pursed her lips and studied the woman in front of her. She knew damn well there was something going on that she was unaware of, but also knew that pushing Sara would get her nowhere. She could be even more closed lipped at times than Grissom could. "Fine." She sighed. "I'll grab a small piece from inside the cuff. But this thing isn't going back until all of the tests are run. Just in case I need more."

"Deal." Sara held her hand out for the SD card and camera. "Let me grab a few photos." She switched on a bright study lamp and positioned it over the material while the other woman turned on the mass spec machine. Snapping photos of the grease stains she then flipped it over for to search for any trace on the back. A throaty, "yes!" was uttered as she spotted a small threadlike piece of plastic clinging to the bottom, of the track top. She photographed it, picked it up with a set of tweezers, and then held it up for Catherine to see.

"Looks like the stripping off a piece of wire…" The blonde remarked, snatching up the scissors off the desk.

"Yeah. Do we know what color wire was used to rig the short in my car?" Sara grabbed a small plastic bindle, placed it on the table, and the grabbed a swab.

"That's the stuff Nick retrieved so I never actually handled it, but as far as I could tell based on the report, all of the plastic coating had been burned away or it was charred beyond recognition." Clipping a small piece of material out from the underside of the cuff, Catherine dropped it into a thimble sized beaker and added some fluid to it and the swab Sara had just placed in its own thimble. Each sample turned a brilliant shade of blue. "Gasoline on both…" She remarked before placing the two items into the mass spec device. "This will give us a full chemical breakdown of the gasoline and we can compare it to the stuff we found on the wiring in your car."

Sara bobbed her head and swabbed the grease stain on the cuff. She followed the same procedure with this and then placed it into the mass spec as well. "Now we wait…" She announced.

"Mmmm…" Catherine nodded and took a seat on one of the nearby stools. "You know what I don't get?"

Sara shook her head, and sipped her tea. She figured there were probably a lot of things the older woman didn't get, but the problem with that was that when she did put it all together, an eventuality that was inevitable, she would definitely pop a gasket. Nick and Sara may have been able to put up a smokescreen for the time being with a the thickly woven tale they'd managed to spin, but at some point she was certain the whole mess would come back around and screw them over in a big way. Karma was fucked like that. No matter how noble the reason for the lie, it would always be discovered. Her free hand moved unconsciously to her stomach and she left it there, feeling its warmth seep through her top. She could handle the thought that someone was out to get her. It's not like she'd never been in a dangerous position before. But she had another life inside her that she had to protect… That part terrified her.

"Hey…"

Sara looked up at the blonde woman who was mimicking her own gestures with the coffee cup. "Sorry…"

"You were a million miles away there." Cath leaned in, and squeezed the younger woman's hand. "You okay…?"

"Yeah." She stared shyly into the tea leaves that had escaped into the bottom of her cup. "Just thinking…"

"Care to share?" When Sara remained quiet the Catherine leaned in and dropped her voice. "I know it'll probably destroy my reputation as the lab bitch if this gets out, but you know, I'm a pretty good listener."

The younger woman grinned at this. "I know. I just…" She shrugged. "It's funny. When I first found out I was pregnant I didn't even know if I wanted to keep it." She stared into her empty cup and placed it on the work table.

"Now you would fight to the death for a child you've never even met…" Catherine finished the thought for her.

Sara nodded silently.

"That's what being a mom is all about." The older woman announced. "It's almost instinctive. You know one time when Lindsay was little, maybe three I took her to a play group. Buncha little kids her age, some toys and moms sitting around shooting the shit."

The slim brunette climbed onto a nearby chair, her brow furrowing at the basic normalcy of the scene her friend was describing. She simply couldn't picture herself there, but at the same time she knew this kind of thing was part of her future.

"Well there was this little boy. He was playing with a ball; all of a sudden he wants the fire truck Linds has. He gets up comes over and when she wouldn't give it to him, he hit her over the head with a wooden block. I have to tell you, I saw red. I mean this big blank spot opened up in my world and I swear, as God is my witness; I wanted to pick the child up and toss him across the room. The other mother, she just laughed it off until I gave her an earful, and then grabbed my daughter and left. I never went back." Catherine nodded in the younger woman's direction. "Protective instinct…"

"God…" Sara dropped her head into her hands. "I just don't know what kind of a mother I'll make, Cath. I have to admit, the whole thing terrifies me. I mean I didn't have the greatest upbringing as a child, and my mom…" She gazed at the older woman, tempering her words. "She wasn't the best example."

"So she made mistakes. Sara, we all do. There's no such thing as the perfect mother. Mine, well hell she lived the Vegas, dancer life style. Why do you think I was taking my clothes off on a stage at age 18?" She shrugged. "But you learn, and you remember, and if you're smart you catch yourself before you make the really crucial mistakes, and if you don't, then you know when to admit you've screwed up, you bite the bullet and explain to your kid, the hows and whys of the situation."

The slim brunette seemed to accept this. "There are some screw ups that can't be explained away." She added; the image of her father's dead body and his blood spread across the living room couch, coming to the forefront of her mind.

"Those are the ones you do your best to avoid." The older woman shook her head. "Besides Sara, you have Nick, and he is the epitome of stable. I mean look at his family, dad judge, mom PTA all the way, 7 kids all of them successful… He can definitely pick up the slack if you need it. And he's a great guy." She patted the younger woman's shoulder. "You're lucky to have him."

Sara closed her eyes at this comment, doing her best not to acknowledge the reference to their relationship. The longer the story went on, the worse it was going to be when everyone found out the truth. And not for the first time since they started the whole charade did she feel like telling Catherine the everything. Nodding she bit back the desire to spill her guts and studied the floor momentarily. The sad thing about it all was that the older woman was right. Nick was a great guy. He deserved a woman who loved him and a child of his own at some point. Allowing him to get tied up in her mess was simply bad judgment all around.

She was still contemplating the situation and what she was going to do about it when the subject of their conversation actually walked in the door and by the look on his face he was far from happy to see her.

"You were supposed to wait for me…" Nick actually tossed the evidence bindle he was carrying onto the table beside him. "Do the words, pregnant, dangerous, attempted murder not mean anything to you…? Sara, come on… You're taking too many risks." He looked at Catherine for support and she simply nodded at him.

"I was perfectly safe." Sara did her best to reason with him and drew herself to her feet. "Greg was with me. We were in and out. There never was any real danger."

"That's just it, you don't know that. We suspect that it might be her…" He dropped his voice at the latter part of his statement, and cast a glance towards the open door. "But that hasn't been confirmed." He walked back towards the door and closed it over. "It could be anyone."

"Actually," Catherine jumped in. "We may have something that ties her to the car at least."

Nick looked from one woman to the other. "What is it?"

"Sara recovered a top with gas and grease on the sleeve." She pointed to the item in question. "And she brought back some pictures of shoes. I'm going to compare those once we're done here with the mass spec."

The pretty brunette smiled at the Texan, whose expression had lightened slightly. "Am I forgiven?"

Nick squinted at her. "No." He scowled. "You need to learn to listen, and think about the baby."

Sara placed her hands on her hips and stubbornly returned his scowl.

Catherine was about to intercede, since it looked like the entire conversation might possibly turn into an all out spat, but in an instant the younger woman's face changed completely; moving from indignant anger to a look of utter horror. Her skin suddenly migrated from a healthy flush, to ashen white, and she let out a moan that sounded almost like she'd been kicked in the gut.

The two people sharing the room with her, thought for sure she was headed for another round of vomiting.

Reaching out to lead her to the sink, Nick was shocked when she simply collapsed into his arms.

"Oh my God…" Catherine already had her phone out and was instantly dialing 911. Frantic she reached down to clasp the fallen woman's hand while Nick pulled her into a comforting embrace on the floor.

Sara's head was in his lap, but she was almost oblivious to her surroundings. The blinding pain in her abdomen played with her senses and she jammed her eyes shut; trying to focus on something other than the fear that was rising up in her chest. Rolling over into a fetal position her hand immediately splayed over her stomach and she moaned.

"It's okay, buttercup." Nick hand caressed her hair, and his voice was soothing, but it didn't stem the panic. "The ambulance is on its way. Catherine just got off the phone with dispatch they'll be here any minute." He looked at the blonde woman for confirmation and she nodded.

"ETA three minutes. They were in the neighborhood. Thank Christ." The former supervisor squeezed Nick's shoulder.

The long slim fingers of Sara's free hand gripped Catherine's other hand forcefully and she let out something akin to a whimper this time. "My baby…" The words were soft and wrought with panic.

"Shhhh…" Catherine instructed. "Save your energy. Breath through the pain, Sara."

Time seemed to slow, and the seconds felt like hours as they waited.

Nick had resorted to gently rocking the woman in his arms, his utterances merely an attempt at insuring that she'd be okay. "It's okay sweetheart, everything will be alright…" He repeated various forms of the same statement, but the words seemed to pass over Sara with little affect.

She was too busy moaning hear much of it, anyway. Surely there was a knife impaling her abdomen. That could be the only explanation for the pain… Anything else was something she didn't want to think about.

A ruckus down the hall confirmed the arrival of the paramedics. Both Greg and Grissom could be heard badgering the two men as they made their way along the corridor.

Catherine stood up and pulled away from the clinging woman on the floor. "In here!" she called out and stuck her head out from the door. "She just collapsed."

The two men shoved the stretcher into the room only to be pushed aside by a now frenzied Grissom.

"What the hell happened?" His face almost matched the color of Sara's as spotted her lying on the floor, with her head in Nick's lap.

"She just collapsed." The Texan was almost in tears his hands entangled amongst the dark waves of the moaning woman's hair.

Grabbing Grissom's arm Catherine moved him aside so the paramedics could reach their target. "Let them do their job." She told him, maintaining a death grip on his sleeve.

"Can you give me the details?" The shorter and wider of the two men asked his hands immediately going to work checking her pulse while the younger and thinner of the two counted her respirations.

"We were discussing something…and… and…" Beside himself, Nick cast a pained glance at Catherine. "She suddenly went white, and doubled over." He swallowed hard and forced the next words out. "She's… she's pregnant…"

There was a gasp at the other side of the room as Greg walked in to the announcement.

Nick still seated on the floor arms clasped around Sara, couldn't help but steal a glance at his boss and had it not been such a grave and horrible moment the look on his Grissom's would have had him in hysterics. Shock simply would not have described it. Grissom's countenance had faded to an almost translucent state, so much so that Nick was almost certain he could see the man stringing his thoughts together and he looked somewhat like he'd been whacked upside the head with a baseball bat.

"It's very early in her pregnancy. We only found out a week or so ago." It wasn't really a lie, and despite the situation, his loyalty to Sara pushed him to keep her secret safe from Grissom. Acting out the role of worried lover, and inevitable father wasn't a stretch and becoming less so by the minute as the paramedics finished up their evaluation.

Greg cast a glance at Catherine and moved over to stand beside her and Grissom.

"She's pregnant?" He couldn't help but ask.

Catherine nodded, and also noted the look of dismay on Grissom's face. Her attention was drawn back to the young couple on the floor.

"Sara…" The older of the EMTs leaned in. "We're going to move you onto the stretcher; it may hurt a little. Okay…?"

At this point, the young woman was completely non responsive.

Breathing suddenly became harder, as Nick realized her grip on his shirt had gone slack. "God… help her… please…" He stared in terror at the paramedics as they loaded his unconscious friend onto the stretcher; his face becoming white as a sheet when his eyes fell on the pool of blood staining the dark linoleum tile.

"Pressure's dropping." The younger paramedic announced drawing the sheet up over the unmoving woman and strapping her into the gurney.

"She may be bleeding out. Let's get her out of here." The older one countered as they raised the gurney up to waist height and began to roll her out of the room.

"I'm coming with you." Nick grasped Sara's limp hand and accompanied her out into the hallway.

"I'll be right there…" Grissom called out to the younger man. Then he turned and tossed Catherine an irate look. "You knew about this?" He stared at her darkly.

She nodded. "I just found out a few days ago." She held up her hand. "They wanted to keep it between the two of them for a little while. I didn't see any reason not to honor their wishes."

The graying entomologist held his hands out at the side in utter disbelief. "This is something I should have been told immediately." He shook his head animatedly. "This, the other investigation…" To say that Grissom was spitting mad couldn't begin to describe his demeanor. The fury coming off of him was something that Catherine hadn't seen in a long time. "What, the-fuck-else, are you keeping from me?"

The blonde woman opened her mouth and then closed it as her eyes fell on the track top a few feet away. She redirected them immediately. "We do have a few things to talk about, but it can wait. There are other more important things to take care of at this particular moment. Agreed" Her eyes flew to the tail end of Sara's morbid entourage as they disappeared around the corner.

"Right." Grissom gritted his teeth and then observed the now abandoned hallway. Some of the wind seemed to go out of his sails and he slumped visibly.

"I'll finish up here, and then meet you at Desert Palms. I'll fill you in on everything then."

Another flash of anger appeared in his eyes. "You're damn right you will…" Then he turned and stalked out of the room.

Greg, who'd pretty much stood dumbly observing the entire event, turned to Catherine; a slew of questions perched on his tongue. Even before he managed to get one out, she held up her hand. "Help me out here, and I will try to fill you in."

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I didn't run off with my muse. Instead, I ran off to Mexico with my family. Anyway, I have been working on it, but only in the evenings when I have the time. We have free wireless at the resort but the place is so huge and the ONLY place I can connect is in the golden club, and that requires a hike with my laptop. Regardless, this is the next chapter. Not beta'd as always – please forgive any mistakes I still have water in my ears and sand on my brain. HUGS to you all and thanks for reading and reviewing. You make me want to write… EVEN ON MY VACATION! Oh and forgive me for what I am about to do… PS HAPPY NEW YEAR!

**Chapter 21**

Nick looked a lot like he'd been tossed under a greyhound bus, only there wasn't the blood loss usually apparent after such an event. Despite this, one didn't have to look terribly close to note how sallow his complexion had become or how exceptionally pained the look on his handsome face was.

The two men in the waiting room stood up when he entered, empty coffee cup in hand. He studied it a moment before crumpling it up and hurling it angrily into the nearby garbage bin.

"How is she?" Greg was the first to speak. It felt odd hearing his own voice after an almost complete hour of utter silence from Grissom.

Nick gazed at the floor, and shook his head. "No change." His hands were shaking as he ran them through the short bristles of his freshly shorn hair. "They drew blood for an HCG count, and to see what's up. But she's…" His arms flew out to the side in confusion as if begging for a sign from God. "She's barely conscious. They said she didn't lose enough blood to be as shocky as she is." He slumped into a nearby chair and dropped his head into his hands, doing his best to get a tighter rein on his volatile emotions. "They're examining her now, to see…" He looked at Greg first and then the mute and stoic Grissom who was simply gaping at him anguish plastered on his usually impassive face. He swallowed the bile sitting in his throat. "To see if she lost the baby."

He'd heard most of the story from Catherine while he finished helping her, and it had sent him reeling. Nick and Sara? To say Greg was shocked was a monstrous understatement. He was literally blown off his feet. Warrick was still out working one of his cases so Catherine had decided to stick around and wait for him before heading over to the hospital. As a result he'd made the short trip alone, only to be forced to gape at the four dingy walls of the waiting room and attempt to stare down his clearly aggrieved boss during the pins and needle wait for news. His purpose – to keep Grissom company - had been for naught. His boss, seemingly lost in his own little world, had ignored him almost completely.

"Do they know what caused her to collapse?" Greg wandered back over to the couch he'd been sitting on, and grabbed the bag wrapped book he'd brought with him. Considering the contents, he hadn't wanted anyone else to get a hold of it.

"Naw…" Nick shook his head, a look of dead confusion playing across his face. "Maybe it was me." He closed his eyes at this thought, his emotions getting the better of him. "We were arguing. I mean nothing serious I was just concerned about her going out with you earlier… and then she…" He swallowed the words. "And then she… just dropped…" A tremulous hand went to his face, swiping at the fresh horror that had just slipped across it. "I caused this didn't I?"

At a loss for words Greg turned to Grissom, hoping he had some advice for the other man. But still mute, the older man had turned his eyes away from both of them. His gazed seemingly lost in the white walls of the waiting room once again. "Uh…man…no." He shook his head. "I'm not exactly up on the reproductive process, perse… I mean other than from a DNA angle. But what I do know is that women do… you know, spontaneously abort. My mom, she had so much trouble getting pregnant. That's why I'm their only kid. They tried and tried and lost a few, and then there was me…" He dropped into the chair beside the shaken man and nudged his shoulder, sympathy working its way through the residual shock. "Arguing with her wouldn't cause this. There must have been something else, Nick." Then he thought about the finality of what he had said so he back pedaled. "That is - assuming the worse, but Nick women do bleed sometimes during pregnancy."

The Texan looked at the younger man, a modicum of relief scattering across his face. The former tech was right. He'd seen it with his own sisters. You don't grow up in a house full of girls and not be a part of a few maternity disasters. "Thanks Greggo." He uttered. Not that he was ready to absolve himself completely of guilt, but his friend's advice did force him to gain a little perspective.

There were a whole host of questions floating around in Greg's brain, but he didn't want to undo what his words had accomplished, so he simply bobbed his head at his friend.

"Mr. Stokes…" A balding slightly overweight resident stood in the doorway. He stared at the chart as if confirming he had the right name.

Nick was on his feet immediately. "How is she?"

This question actually drew Grissom's attention away from where it had runaway to.

"Still tenuous. We're trying to figure out what is causing the problem." His voice softened in sympathy, as he began his explanation. "There's generally a predictable pattern a woman will follow if she's having a miscarriage. This situation seems a little abnormal in the way that it's happening. That is, assuming her uterus is in the midst of expelling the zygote to begin with."

Confused Nick shook his head. "I don't understand…"

The doctor shrugged slightly. "It's a process. Generally, such processes are unsurprising. But she isn't being as predictable as we would like." At this the resident moved into the room a little further and dropped his voice. "Is it possible Miss Sidle was contemplating an abortion?"

Everyone's mouth in the room dropped open.

Nick stood up like someone had set fire to him. "No… absolutely not possible."

"You're certain?" The doctor pressed, doing his best to be gentle, but perplexed by the state of his patient.

"One hundred percent." The Texan was pacing and agitated. He suddenly turned back towards the resident, whose name tag identified him as Dr. Tim Durgan. Shaking his head at the man, he stepped deeply into his personal space so that they were almost toe to toe. Then he continued. "Aside from the fact that she hasn't really been alone any time in the last 48 hours, the last words out of her mouth were… _My baby…_and she was visibly upsetNow does that sound like someone who was considering an abortion?"

"No…" The resident sighed. "I'm sorry, but I'm compelled to ask these kinds of questions."

Nick was immediately remorseful. As someone who spent the better part of his time, asking painful questions of deceased family members and friends, and casting aspersions in the direction of those same people, he more than understood the man's dilemma. But that didn't make it any easier to swallow when he was on the receiving end. "I get it…" Was all he said.

"I'm only asking because this mimics a home-style abortion scenario in a lot ways." Rubbing his thick fingers along the shiny skin of his head the doctor eyed the grimace twisted the other man's face.

"What do you mean by home-style?"

"Just that there are some things – over the counter naturopathic drugs that a woman can take to cause a miscarriage, or abortion. The problem with them – aside from the fact that they aren't always effective - is that in high doses they can also harm or kill the woman taking them, especially if they don't know what they are doing or the proper quantities to take. These circumstances closely imitate what Ms. Sidle seems to be going through right now."

All three men in the room managed to look confounded, but for the first time since he'd arrived Grissom said something. "Sara wouldn't do anything like that." Nick and Greg both stared at him, so he swallowed and continued on. "She has too much respect for human life."

"Respect for human life is one thing, but being saddled with an unwanted pregnancy and the future of a child you didn't plan for is something entirely different. It forces people to do desperate things sometimes." Dr. Durgan countered.

"She's very smart, a scientist and an active believer in a woman's right to choose. If she wanted an abortion she would have just had one." Grissom pointed out, his voice rising to a pitch that said he was clearly aggravated. "And it would have been carried out by a qualified physician."

"Okay…" The doctor nodded silently, seemingly unconvinced but willing to accept the word of both men for the time being. "Well then, we'll wait to see if she passes her mucous plug or any tissue. That's usually a solid indicator that the pregnancy has been terminated. The pelvic we just gave her didn't reveal all that much. Her cervix appeared intact, though with her being so early on it would not have had to open that much and we didn't want to poke around a lot just because everything is so fragile. We'll also be monitoring her hormone levels to see if they drop any, and I've drawn blood to see if anything unusual shows up."

Nick nodded silently, and then as the resident turned to leave he stopped the man. "When can I go back in?"

"Now." He gazed at the other two men. "She can have visitors too, though only one at a time, and please keep it short."

Nick nodded. "You wanna go in?" He eyed the youngest member of the group. "She's a bit out of it, but she'll know you're there."

"Yeah…sure." Greg seemed reluctant though.

"Don't worry man… it'll be okay." The Texan nodded in the direction of the emergency ward. "They have her in a private room, number 117."

"I won't be long." The former DNA tech shoved his hands in his pockets and moved uncertainly down the hall.

Nick couldn't help but smile at the younger man's reluctance, he was still grinning when he turned to face the piercing and accusatory gaze of a solemn Gil Grissom.

"Do you have anything you want to tell me Nick?" It was all a matter of math and human nature to the entomologist. Aside from the surprise of hearing that his former lover and woman he was still in love with was pregnant, he found himself more than a little dismayed. He and Sara had split a month and a half previously. Even if she were the type to hop from one man to another, which he was certain wasn't the case, Grissom unlike most me had a pretty good handle on her cycle. And the math was telling him that there was no way that the child she was carrying could be the young Texan's. He also knew that Sara was above deceiving her friend, so the bottom line was – the younger man he wasn't the father, which also meant there was a good chance he knew about their affair, otherwise there would be no need for the obvious charade.

Nick squinted in his direction, and for there was an almost sympathetic look gracing his face. Quick as a flash it was gone and he shook his head. "Uh uh… No sir."

"Can I pose a hypothetical question, then?" Grissom pressed.

Running his hand over his head, Nick nervously turned away and dropped into a nearby plastic chair. "Sure, whatever."

Knowing his proximity would make his team member nervous Grissom walked over and sat to Nick's immediate left. When he spoke he didn't look at him. Instead, he focused on the floor. His brain absently stringing together the pattern of white and black colored tiles spread out upon it. Somehow this was an easier task than thinking about the fact that a child that he and Sara may have created together was probably in the mid stages of being little more than a memory. His voice almost cracked as he spoke. "If you were in love with someone, but circumstances prevented you from being together, wouldn't you still want to know if she was carrying your baby?"

Nick refused to make eye contact. He knew if he did he would see the ache in there that Grissom must have been feeling. Most of the time he would have supported the speculation that his boss was a man of very little emotion, but the look on his face a earlier when the doctor was describing the situation proved just the opposite. And the question he'd just posed, more than answered one important concern that had been floating through his head. The man was still in love with Sara, a reality that made the situation all the more agonizing, and what he was about to do exponentially more cruel. Nick shrugged and stood up. "If I was in love with a woman who was pregnant with my child, I wouldn't allow any circumstance to keep me away from her. And if I did then I wouldn't deserve her." Turning he walked out the door. "I have to go and check on Sara." He called back over his shoulder.

"What if you didn't know?" Grissom called after the younger man.

Nick stopped at the edge of the doorway. "That's a cop out man and you know it." He shook his head. "I picked it up in one shift." He thought back to the circumstance that had surrendered the truth to him, and asked himself if he would have figured it out without the help of a bottle of prenatal vitamins and then determined that given a few more days with Sara he would have caught it, regardless. "It wasn't hard to pick up. All you have had to do was pay attention. But see that's the way it is with you isn't it? All this shit has been going on at the lab and with the people who are supposed to be like family to you and you didn't have a clue." He was going to stop there, noting the look of guilt and torment on his boss' face, but he couldn't help himself. He'd known since he'd kissed Sara in the restaurant that he was getting in too deep, and the jumble of emotions he was feeling about the woman down the hall and the futility of the situation in general was messing with his restraint. "She deserves more that this." With that he was gone.

* * *

"Hey Buttercup…" Nick called softly as he entered the room to see a worried Greg perched over Sara, her cool limp hand clutched in his. "Was she talking at all?"

The younger man was set to answer when a soft feminine voice broke through the relative silence of the small space. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here." She cringed against at the sensation of the catheter rubbing against the bone in her hand.

Nick smirked. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." Slender fingers pointed to a jug and empty glass beside it. "Water…"

"Sure…" Nick grabbed the jug and poured.

"She has some questions I can't answer." Greg looked hopefully to the other man. "I'm gonna go." He leaned over and kissed the forehead of the slim brunette. "I brought your book." He indicated the black bag on the side of the table.

"Did Cath get any results yet?" Her voice was hoarse and weak, as Nick pressed the water to her lips. She swallowed deeply and then relaxed her head back onto the pillow.

"No… she was still waiting on them and Warrick when I left."

"Alright…" She licked her lips and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Doctor said only one person at a time." He squeezed her hand lightly, being careful of the IV. "I'll be outside if you need me, okay?"

Sara smiled softly and forced herself to look at the young man, despite the desire to sleep. "Righto, Greggo…"

Wounded dark eyes met the same as the former DNA tech left the room. "How's my baby? They won't tell me anything, Nick." Sara's words stumbled slightly over her tongue.

Lowering himself onto the side of the mattress, he dropped the glass of water on the bedside table and gripped her free hand in his. "That's because they don't know anything yet."

"How can they not know?" Frustration laced its way through the exhaustion in her voice.

"The doctor said things aren't proceeding as they would if you were having a natural miscarriage, honeybunch." There was a question behind his eyes, and Sara spotted it immediately.

"Natural? What else did they say?" She pushed, not sure if she wanted to hear it or not. In reality, she was overcome by the heavy need to sleep, but something about this was important though she was unsure as to why.

"Can I ask you something…? And do you promise to give me an honest answer no matter what?" The Texan's tone was uncertain; almost as though he wasn't sure he really wanted to say the words.

"Sure...An honest answer is the least I could give you, especially after everything you've done for me. At the very minimum, I know I owe you that." Her strength was ebbing but she pushed herself to stay in the moment.

Nick shook his head. "You don't owe me anything. What I've done was purely by choice and you have to understand that."

She smiled sadly. "I do." She gripped his hand a little tighter.

"The doctor said something about naturopathic drugs and abortions. You didn't change your mind, did you?" His eyes were dark with worry.

"No…" She looked perplexed and horrified all at once.

The answer was absolute and went a long way towards easing the ache in the Texan's chest. "Well then nothing else matters." He smiled at her.

"It might…" she said softy, a cold actuality settling in the back of her brain; niggling at the investigator her. "What else did he say?"

"Just that the way this is all coming about seems odd to him." He stared at her, dark eyes searching hers. "Are you in a lot of pain?" He asked trying to distract her from any other concerns she may have.

"I'm crampy." Sadness was held in her words and her pale visage. "So they _do_ think I'm miscarrying then?"

Nick shook his head. "They honestly don't know. As far as they could see everything is intact, but you're so early on that the defining factor will be your hormone levels. That's why their watching you and drawing blood."

She nodded and yawned tiredly. "Tell me more about this being odd, and tell me why you asked me if I'd thought of a naturopathic abortion. Did he tell you what it involves?"

"Sara…I have my answer just leave it." His large hands engulfed her slender ones. "Focus on relaxing and holding onto that baby, okay?"

"This could be important. Tell me what he said." She eyed him darkly, doing her best to sound both stern and strong and failing miserably as her words were barely audible.

"Just what I said earlier, that in some way your symptoms resemble a naturopathic abortion." He sighed knowing she wouldn't give up until he told her everything, despite how sick or tired she was feeling. "He said that there are certain over the counter drug that a woman can take that will cause a miscarriage. The problem with them is they are dangerous to the mom if taken in high doses."

"The only drugs I've knowingly taken have been my prenatal vitamins. And the medicine they gave me here after the fire. Nothing else I swear."

"I told the doctor that you wouldn't do anything like that." Nick assured her.

Sara closed her eyes, and for a moment he thought she had drifted off. Just as he was getting ready to rise and sit in a nearby chair, she squeezed his hand. "My book..." She indicated the other table and waited as he retrieved it. "I'm not sure what the evidence I brought Catherine is going to tell us, but this is pretty indicative of Alicia's feelings towards me. And there's one other thing in there that really scares me. I'm sure it's tied to this as well."

Nick eyed the cover of the book and did his best not to show any emotion at all. This was clearly something private shared between two people and never meant to be public domain. Lifting the front cover he shuttered, inside taped to the front corner was a used EPT stick, with what had to have been a positive result. Beside it there were thick black marker strokes where a sonnet Grissom had written used to be. He could see where the pen had been pressed into the paper but couldn't make out the actual words. He flipped through it rapidly catching altered, blacked out and bloodied faces of the women in the book. Words like _die_, _bitch_, _slut_ and _whore_ scattered through it. He didn't even make it as far as the end before he slammed it shut. "I'm going to call Brass, have her brought in."

There was a tentative hand on his arm. "You can't. We may know she did this. But we have no proof."

"You're kidding me, right?" Nick indicated the book still clutched in his hand. "Is this your test strip in here?"

"I have no idea. I know it's the brand I used and stupidly I took the test at the lab so she could have picked it up out of the garbage." Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. Panicked at thinking she was pregnant, she'd made some pretty stupid mistakes taking the test at the lab was one of them. Leaving the result there was another. "I'm sure a DNA analysis would answer that though." Sara fought the grogginess weighing on her thoughts. "You would have to wait for the results before you even talk to Brass."

"This is screwed, you know that don't you." There was anger in his inflection, but still gentleness in his hands as he ran his fingers over the back of hers. "This should be substantiation for what we've suspected all along." He nodded at the book he'd placed beside the water pitcher.

"I found it really well hidden in the back of Grissom's closet. There is no proof she did this. I doubt she was stupid enough to leave fingerprints and she certainly didn't sign her artwork. That's probably why she put it where she did, instead of keeping it." She sighed and closed her eyes. She really wanted to sleep. They were giving her low dose pain medication that they promised wouldn't harm the baby - if it was still intact – but there was break through cramping and it was more painful than she was willing to admit to the young man beside her. She stirred uncomfortably.

"Well we can't just sit around and do nothing." Nick was pissed beyond belief. He hated having his hands tied by the evidence - or lack there of. He especially hated it when all the pieces were there but they weren't fitting properly, and most importantly he hated it when someone he loved was in danger and all he could do was be reactive.

Loved….? Whoa… The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He stared at the cover of the book, reached for it and then shoved it back into the bag, doing his best to rationalize away his thoughts. Sure he loved Sara… Like a sister, right? Sure… that was it. But then why did he feel so empty at the thought of her losing a child that wasn't even his?

"Hey…" Sara nudged him slightly, noting that the air about him had changed but unsure as to why. "You okay? You disappeared there for a minute."

He forced a grin in her direction but couldn't look at her. "Yeah. Just trying to think of someway to nail her."

"Maybe Cath has gotten something off the top or the shoe that will help." The young woman suggested softly.

"So she hates you because you were involved with Grissom. She really hates you because she found out you were pregnant with his child. She tries to torch you in your car." He threw his hands up. "She must have left something of herself somewhere…"

"She's good. I'll give her that. But what I don't get is, why Cath first. I mean. I posed the immediate threat." Sara added weakly, her eyes closing once again.

"Maybe she didn't know that." Nick suggested. "Maybe she thought it was Catherine he was involved with."

There was silence for a moment before Sara nodded. "It's possible. I don't think she knew about Grissom and I until about a week ago."

"What makes you say that?"

"That's when she gave me a bag of stuff that I'd left at his place." She grimaced slightly. "Told me they didn't have room for it there. I imagine if she knew it was mine before then, she probably would have given it back to me earlier."

"What was in it?" Nick eyed her curiously.

"Nothing really…" She turned a moderate shade of red as Nick waited for her to give up the list. A small moan escaped her chest. "A few books, underwear, and a can of my herbal tea…" She yawned slightly. "That's it. Nothing terribly provocative."

"Maybe not to you, but to her I bet it meant a lot."

The two of them stared at each other mutely as another wave of pain moved through her. She shifted uncomfortably again but did her best to mask it by grabbing for the glass of water beside her.

Nick got to it first and then held it to her lips. He watched her drink and then it hit him like a bolt of lightening. He was on his feet immediately and dialing Catherine's number with in seconds.

"What's wrong?"

"Chamomile tea… Sara, you said she gave you back a can of your herbal tea. I have only ever seen someone drink tea that comes from a bag. I thought it was weird when I first saw you stuff that little ball. There are some pill forms of naturopathic drugs, but a lot of them are actual herbs. How difficult would it be for her to mix some of these drugs or herbs into your tea?" Nick was pacing animatedly now; his steps betraying the agitation that was coursing through him. "Did she give you the tea back before or after you found out you were pregnant?"

Terror was painted on the young woman's face as the realization struck her. "After. The next day…" There were tears in her eyes at this point.

"Whoa… hey… stop that now…" Nick dropped the room phone back onto its hook and pulled his shaking friend into a solid embrace.

"God I did this to myself." She shook her head against his chest.

"Not a chance in hell, Buttercup. This was all her and don't you doubt it." He kissed the tearful brunette lightly on the forehead and waited for her to stop. A few minutes later her trembling had subsided and she seemed to have calmed. "I think." He moved back to get a better look at her tear stained face. He didn't like the fear he saw in her eyes and knew that despite what he wanted, there was someone else who would be better suited to help her. He didn't want to bring it up but his conscience had a strangle hold on his emotions and he had no choice. "I think we need to talk to Grissom." She made to shake her head and pull away but he held her in place and forced her to listen. "He and I had a conversation in the waiting room, and I think he's figured it out." She made to speak again, but he stopped her. "I didn't confirm or deny it, and as God is my witness Sara as much as I wish this whole thing…" He indicated the two of them. "…was real, I also know he loves you the look on his face said as much." He shoved aside the pain in his heart. "I think he has the right to hear the truth, about you, the baby and that psycho bitch."

She shook her head sadly. "It would only hurt him more to know about the baby now. Especially because I'm going to lose it."

"Don't talk like that, Princess." Nick gazed at her mournfully.

"It's true. The cramping is getting worse." She eyed him sorrowfully. "He or she wasn't meant to be, Nick."

"Don't say that."

"I have to accept it." Sara countered somberly.

It was something he was willing to sell his soul to change but the look on her face told him that they both were powerless to stop what was happening. "Gris still needs to know the truth and he needs to hear it from you. He can help you through this, Honeybunch." Two pairs of dark eyes studied each other and then Sara nodded. "I'll go out and tell him about Alicia; everything we think we have, and everything we think she's done. No more secrets." He said definitively. "Then I'll send him in and you tell him the rest, okay?"

She nodded again both afraid and relieved, though uncertain as to how Grissom was going to take the news.

Leaning in he kissed her on the cheek and then suddenly on the mouth. It wasn't long or languid, but far from chaste. Two broad hands encircled her face and he gazed at her wordlessly for a second. "If he doesn't treat you right you tell me. Okay? This'll be his only chance, Buttercup…"

Wiping away the tears that had gathered in her eyes she nodded at him in silent agreement.

"I'll talk to Grissom first, and send him in, in a minute."

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Chapter 1.

A/N: This was a tough chapter to write. Don't ask me why. I was humming and hawing over it. And it suddenly ended right when I was on a roll…And here you thought I had control over these things. I do have to say with regards to several pleas from people – the story was pretty much decided from beginning to end, getting there is where I tend to be a little loose, but I knew from the outset what I wanted to accomplish with this. I know that's ambiguous. Sorry for the wait. I am working on the next chapter. It took me a bit to get back into the swing of life, after lolling on the beach for a week. Thank you all for the reviews. Sorry about any errors, not Beta'd.

**Chapter 22**

It had been a lot like being a blind man, left bereft and stumbling through the dark for the last few months. Still numb from having everything he wanted and then losing it in a heartbeat, Grissom had been drifting through the days living in an insulated world to protect himself from further damage. Where most men after a break up would have gotten drunk, and probably laid as well, he'd done the exact opposite. Pulling away from everyone, he simply wanted to be left alone to allow his wounds to scab – heal would have been too much to expect – and maybe try to keep some semblance of normalcy at work. It was an impossible task at best, especially when it was blatantly apparent that the new girl on shift was hated by practically every one of her peers, _and_ she was pregnant with your future child.

After the initial shock of her announcement had worn off and decisions had been made, he'd tried to convince himself he could do it. For the sake of a baby he didn't plan on, but didn't have the heart to kill – lest his mother haunt him forever and Sara hate him for the same amount of time – he decided that since he'd already lost the only woman he ever loved; he would dig down deep and do what was right. It was a decision rooted in old fashioned values, and likely a knee jerk reaction his Catholic upbringing but he never once stopped to think about it. After all, overanalyzing the situation, which would have been he normal reaction, had already cost him years in a relationship with the woman he'd now come to believe was his soul mate. Something he believed could be the only possible explanation for the gaping hole she'd left when she'd walked out of his life.

Denial was the key. In order to live a life you hated you had to be very good at playing that kind of game. Pretend that you were somewhat happy about your impending fatherhood and force yourself to believe that things would get better and that you could build a home based on such falsities. Pretend that the woman who had stolen your heart wasn't the only thing that could make you feel alive as you moved through your barren everyday life. Pretend that your soon to be wife didn't make your skin crawl every time she touched you, or came on to you – a smile perched on her pretty face and her willing body pressed up against yours. That was one barrier he hadn't been able to force himself to cross – and despite what she wanted from him – probably never would.

The list of fallacies was endless, and if he were a different man he might have been able to maintain such a front for years, as many people do. But he wasn't. He knew the difference between reality and denial; he'd seen day to day proof of what could happen when people were backed up against a wall with nowhere to turn. It usually resulted in a gun been draw and a bullet either to one's own head, or the head of another. He'd tried to live the lie for the sake of a child, but hadn't really thought far enough ahead to realize that that child would have to grow up in a house of lies. What kind of a life was that? It was hard enough for an adult to live that way, let alone a little boy or girl.

He'd known for a week or so that things were coming to a head. There was only so long he could hang on to the tattered remnants of his emotions without them bleeding through and forcing him to do what had to be done. Nick's comments to him earlier, and the realization that Sara was probably pregnant with his child, as well, had prompted the already loose thread that had kept everything somewhat fastened in place to unravel at the speed of light. Sitting alone in the waiting room a series of decisions were made that should have been put into play a long time ago.

Maybe it was fate that both Catherine and Nick arrived at the same time. Perhaps some deity was being kind to them all, because having to face the younger man alone would likely have resulted in each of them walking away with some pretty deep wounds.

As it was, Grissom the even tempered scientist had dissipated into someone very tense and very angry. By the time Greg had left the room to go grab coffee he had worked himself into such a state that he was ready to demand to see Sara. If for no other reason than to have her try and tell him to his face that she was no longer in love with him, and that the child she was carrying wasn't his. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye and lie to him. He was on his feet and at the door when Catherine practically ran him down, followed by Nick who'd been coming from the opposite direction.

"How is she?" Catherine was the first to speak.

Grissom nodded in Nick's direction to indicate he was the one she should be asking and made to leave the room.

"She's a little better. She's talking." The young Texan stepped out in front his boss doing his best to block him from striding into the hallway.

"I'm going to see her." Grissom said his eyes conveying to the younger man that he was done playing games.

"I know. And she wants to see you, but we need to talk." Nick placed his hand on Grissom's arm.

"Sara first." Grissom shook him off and pushed past him and out into the hallway..

"Nick's right." Catherine looked at her friend. "We do need to talk." She held up a stack of papers that she'd been clutching close to her chest.

"Can't this wait until after?" His tension had eased somewhat at the younger man's agreement, but that only increased his desire to go see Sara.

"No…" Catherine grabbed Grissom's sleeve and tugged him back towards the room. "We have a problem." She cast a glance at Nick. Neither of them had had a chance to confer and she knew that by laying out the evidence she was carrying and coming clean about everything, she was in essence putting all of their jobs on the line.

A huff of frustration broke from the night shift supervisor's chest but he relented and allowed himself to be drawn out of the hallway. "Make it quick."

Closing the door behind them, she passed the first stack of papers to Nick, who threw a cursory glance at them. They were reports from trace and drew a connection between the oil and the gasoline found on Alicia's top and the brand used on Sara's car. The look on his normally friendly face changed to one that was both grim and angry.

Leafing through a file Catherine tugged a couple of stapled sheets out and passed them Grissom. He studied it a moment and realized that his friend had found a match to the shoe that she'd been looking for. Noting the type and brand and the fact that it was a woman's shoe, he nodded in their direction. "Okay… so you found your Cinderella…"

"Yes it was a perfect fit." The blonde woman reached over and flipped the top page, bypassing the details of the report and bringing his attention to the photos of the specific shoe, and the piece from it.

"Great, we'll look into it when we get back to the lab." Grissom nodded and then turned to leave.

"You're not even interested in who the shoe belongs to?" Shock couldn't begin to describe the expression on her face.

"Frankly, no." Knowing that it would take considerably longer if he didn't attempt to explain, he clenched his fists and dove in. "Firstly, a match doesn't make a vandal out of your Cinderella. Being on your property, however questionable the intent, doesn't mean the person was the one who lobbed the rock through your window. It's circumstantial at best. Secondly, I'm going to see Sara and at this particular moment that's more important."

Moderately ticked off, Catherine grabbed the papers from Nick she thrust them at the man. "Does this look familiar?" This particular stack of papers was fastened with a large paperclip. The top sheet was standard comparative color photo of the front and back of the jacket that Sara had retrieved from his apartment.

He stared at it momentarily and then shook his head. "No…" Realizing that he wasn't going to get out of the room without giving the situation, what Catherine deemed, the appropriate amount of attention, he moved onto the next paper, Sara's name immediately catching his eye. He read down a few lines, it was enough for him get the gist. He nodded at Catherine. "It's not definitive, but call Brass and have the owner of the jacket brought in." He passed the sheets back to the blonde woman, who was gaping at him - pissed off written all over her normally attractive visage. "I take it that the owner of the shoe and the jacket are one and the same."

"Yes and because of it, I…" Catherine corrected herself. "…We have a situation on our hands here…and I need your help to deal with it."

His friend's comment wasn't lost on him, but at the same time all he could think about was another woman. A beautiful brunette, who was alone in a hospital room, carrying a child that, he was certain, was his. The pregnancy, being as tentative as it appeared to be, made matters that much worse. He wanted to be there no matter what happened. His cerulean eyes roamed from the blonde to the silent man standing behind her. "I understand that, and we'll deal with the whole mess as soon as we get through _this_ crisis…" Grissom was sure he would have caught on fire if the heat from Catherine's gaze were any more tangible. He quelled his desire to push her and Nick out of his way and did his best to ignore that little voice in his head that was telling him move his ass. "Look. Brass can bring the person in. He can hold her for 24, by then we should know better what's going on with Sara and can focus on building a case against her."

Catherine cocked her head to the side, curious as to why the man was so desperate to see the younger woman. She knew he had harbored feelings for Sara for years, but she had also figured that with the discovery of her pregnancy and of the couple's relationship, he would have done what he'd been doing all along… a whole shitload of nothing. "Nick's here, he'll take care of Sara. This is something we have to deal with now, and it has to be resolved before Jim brings her in." She held up a hand before he could utter anything other than a simple "_Why?" _

"An arrest at this time might not be kosher, because the way we got the evidence wasn't exactly above board." She added quickly.

Grissom's gaze hardened. "What do you mean?"

The blonde cast a furtive glance at Nick, who'd moved up to stand beside her for moral support. "The shoe and the top were acquired during an illegal search of sorts."

"Of sorts? What are you telling me Catherine? That this person is going to walk because you rushed to the finish line and cut corners?" Grissom couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"No. It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" He began pacing.

"We had a theory about who it was." Nick jumped in. "Initially, this person had been ruled out by Brass, but we figured because it was someone at the lab, he probably was careful not to ruffle any feathers when he was looking into their alibi."

"Okay? So how did we get from this, to an illegal search?" Grissom turned disbelief plastered on his face. "And how do you plan to justify it, without having the whole case tossed out of court?"

"I'm getting to that." Catherine watched as Nick suddenly turned left the room. "First I need to tell you that the piece of the shoe was actually found at the scene of a case that Nick and Sara were working on."

"What?" Grissom's voice was laced incredulity.

"They called me in the day you were off to tell me that some of Sara's evidence had gone missing. It was the same scenario as a few months ago, when I called you, only this time I did a search and it turned up in the alley behind the lot. That's where I found the piece of shoe. The scene had been cleared and the alley checked prior to my discovery, so it had to be the person who took the evidence that lost the piece of their shoe." She decided to leave out the other cases that had been messed with. In her eyes two were bad enough; add to that number and Grissom's impending freak out would increase exponentially.

Grissom ignored the information about the shoe entirely instead he focused on the more immediate concern. "What did you do with the evidence?" As nightshift supervisor he was almost afraid to ask. At the same time a litany of recriminations were running through his head. How could he have missed all this?

"Some of it was still intact, and the stuff that wasn't was rebagged." She couldn't help but cringe when she said it.

"Tell me you noted it. Tell me you didn't present it as uncompromised." Grissom's eyes were flashing at this point and his hands nervously running through his hair.

"No."

"Catherine, chain of custody was wrecked. The seals on the bags were ruined, how could present this evidence as anything but contaminated?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and didn't want to either.

"Chain of custody wasn't broken. It was a secure scene, and the person who took it is an employee of the lab." The blonde woman countered.

"That's a stretch and you know it." Grissom's pacing had resumed.

"It'll hold up in court. The alley was secured at either end."

"It couldn't have been that secure it this person was able to sneak in and take the evidence." The entomologist retorted, his head telling him that this particular situation had to be dealt with immediately, while his heart was urging him to go to Sara.

"I told him…about your evidence." Catherine turned to the younger man who'd just come back. This time he was holding Sara's book, which was still tucked in its bag.

Nick quirked an eyebrow. "O—kay…" He drew the word out waiting to see if his boss was going to hand him his head. He was pretty sure he was already on the man's bad side.

"And I told him about finding the shoe piece in the alley. That was a legit discovery by the way." She remarked to her boss and friend.

Grissom rolled his eyes. "Right, except that all the evidence from the _actual case_ is contaminated and for all intents and purposes should be trashed."

"Not all." Nick shook his head. "Some of it was recollected and the point is moot since we got a confession in the murder."

"A confession you probably wouldn't have gotten if you didn't have the evidence in the first place." Grissom snapped. "You could all lose your jobs over this."

Nick nodded. "If that's the way it's got to be." He was willing to accept whatever punishment the man dished out, he knew going into it that this was a possibility.

"I didn't say you were going to. I said you could." The nightshift supervisor glowered; a headache of massive proportions was worming its way into his brain. "So the top and the shoes are related to the trouble you and Sara have been having, and they're compromised too?" He threw his hands out at his sides. "How did that happen? Or do I really want to know?"

"You may not want to, but you need to, because like it or not you're involved." Her smile was tense, as she handed him a final set of papers. They were DNA results taken from sloughed off skin found on the jacket and the laces of the shoes. He waited and watched as he read the name off.

"Marla Pinkton?" He shook his head and squinted at the really poor and somewhat ancient mug shot. The very, very young, dark haired girl in the photo wasn't someone he recognized. He thought back to some of the new faces at the lab, but couldn't remember anyone who looked even remotely like the suspect. She would be older now, maybe by a full ten years, but regardless her features would be similar – that was, if he could see them clearly. He sighed and ran his hand over his beard in frustration.

"Yeah." The blonde woman cast a glance at Nick who was looking over his boss' shoulder and sporting the same confused look. "I am waiting for a complete work up from NY, but apparently she's brilliant, a sociopath, and formerly a resident of the Manhattan Psychiatric Hospital, and prior to that the Bronx Children's Psychiatric hospital. She's a lifer. Escaped three years ago and has been on the loose since." Catherine reported.

"Well who the hell is doing the background checks at the lab if the manage to let a prize like this get hired?" Nick read listed off some of the main points on the sheet Grissom was holding. "Classed as a danger to herself and others, manipulative, aggressive narcissist, maladaptive socially, a compulsive liar that lacks empathy and the inability to love – no kidding – they forgot to add pyromaniac…" A shiver ran through him as he looked at Catherine curiously, a string of questions running through his mind not the least of which was, how was this woman connected to Alicia, and had they misjudged their newest coworker? His mind tripped back to his conversation with Sara, maybe it wasn't a connection to the lab. Maybe it was a connection to Grissom - possibly his maid or a stalker. That would explain the book too. Sara had said the woman fanatically conservative. But then how did that relate to Catherine, the missing evidence, and everything else?

The blonde woman shook her head, almost as though she had read the younger man's mind. She'd had the same questions when CODIS had kicked out the name. "There's no one listed by that name working at the lab, but I have a theory."

Grissom sighed again and rubbed his eyes. "Cath, Sara's in the room by herself. I would like to go see her, and as significant as this is, she's more important right now. This is going to take forever to sort out, and I really need to talk to her."

"I was just there, they ordered me out." Nick jumped in quickly. "The nurse was in with her. They've given her a mild sedative, and a painkiller. They're just waiting to get some blood work back and also trying to clean her up so they asked for about 20 minutes alone with her."

The entomologist scowled and then turned to Catherine. "Fine, what's your theory?"

There was an odd dynamic at work in the room, and it left the blonde woman with the distinct feeling that there was something going on that she didn't know about. Seeing as it had to do with Sara, and Grissom, and Nick – a twisted threesome at the best of times – she felt the need to know wheedling its way into her brain, but at the same time knew any inquiries would probably not be answered if she asked outright. In this case, it was better just to hang back and observe - at some point it would come to her. Biting back the niggling little questions on the tip of her tongue, she focused on the issue at hand. "You might want to sit down." She told him.

Grissom crossed his arms and shook his head impatiently. "Will you please just spit it out?"

She studied the man in front of her a moment. Gil Grissom was an enigma. She considered him one of her closest friends, but be that as it may, through the course of their relationship she was the one who'd always done the sharing when it came to discussing emotions and her personal life. There had been times she'd gathered bits of personal information from him, but those were rare unguarded moments. That's why when Alicia had been brought into the fray she'd known from the outset than any queries she'd had about the young woman and their relationship would likely not be answered. And he'd been right; most of her inquiries had been met with stony silence or tersely uttered one word answers. As a result, she had no idea how he really felt about the younger woman, who, was not only his fiancé but the mother of his unborn child. Surely he loved her. "Let me tell you about the top and shoe."

"Can we just focus on one at a time?" The exasperated entomologist literally growled, his eyes traveling between the twosome.

"We are." Catherine was stalling and they both new it. No matter how despicable the woman he'd chosen was, it didn't make it any easier to break her friend's heart. Other than the crush he'd clearly harbored for Sara and an odd date here or there, Gil Grissom had ever really been involved with anyone in all the time she known him. She'd hoped for years that he would find someone to spend his life with, but that special lady had never surfaced, and now when he'd finally made a commitment, she was about to destroy it. It didn't feel good, no matter how much she hated the other woman. "The acquisition of the top and shoes were done by--" She stopped as both her and Nick's phones went off at the same time.

Grissom actually moaned as the two turned away to take their respective calls. Both conversations were being conducted in hushed tones, making it impossible to hear. Aggravated beyond comprehension he turned, left the room and made his way down the hallway. He was tired of waiting, tired of being lied to, and tired of being kept in the dark.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Chapter one. A/N: at the end.

Chapter 23

Woozy was the only word Sara could use to describe the feeling in her head. Never one to take medication unless it was absolutely necessary, the shot the doctor had given her had hit her hard and left her with little more than befuddled thoughts. Combine that with the physical strain of the last few days, the amount of blood she'd just lost, and the only thing she was left with was a sense of foreboding, regret, and utter exhaustion.

The pain that she'd been experiencing earlier had calmed to a dull ache, but it was merely the drugs at work that allowed her that small measure of peace. She could still feel the steady cramping as it moved through her uterus.

Sara grimaced as the woman down below slid her two fingers out, the light plastic of her examination gloves leaving a trail of lubricant behind. It was a minor violation amongst the many that she'd incurred over the last few hours, but collectively they felt like an all out assault. She wanted to go home and lick her wounds in private but by the look on both the intern's face and that of the woman standing beside him, told her that she was in for at least a few more hours of medically induced torture. The woman's next words confirmed it.

"There's no change Ms. Sidle." The nurse was a plump older woman who smiled at her sympathetically before, ditching the gloves and then dragging the sheet back down over Sara's bare legs. Flashes of discomfort from her annual pap smear rolled through her head as she watched the woman grasp the chart that the silent intern held out to her. Quickly, Nurse Wilmer jotted a few notes down and then passed it back to him, before turning to leave.

Sara wasn't sure if the no change status was a good thing or bad, as the doctor's in charge of her case appeared to be stuck in a permanent state of uncertainty. Apparently, the fate of her child hinged on blood tests that were now being taken hourly. The slim brunette stared with tear filled eyes at the ceiling and nodded, her heart clinging to the last shreds of hope, while her head was already beginning to accept the truth that her body already knew. The baby was already gone, left in a pool of blood back on the LVPD lab floor.

Nick's words slipped through her mind…"I'd never seen anyone drink tea like that before…"

How could she have been so stupid? One of the things that she'd done her best not to do was become routine. She'd seen it enough in her job. People settled into basic patterns, which in turn left them open to becoming victims. Despite what her friend had said, the whole thing _was_ her fault. She should have been more careful, especially after finding out that someone was out to get her. Her hands clenched the stiff hospital sheets as yet another needle slipped into her vein. She was slowly being sucked dry, ampoule-by-ampoule.

"Sorry Ms. Sidle." The woman patted her arm in a motherly way, and then smiled at her again. "We're done here for now, if you'd like I can get that handsome young man for you…"

Sara sighed. That had been another big mistake, in a collection of many that were gathering dust with the skeletons in her closet. Feelings were very tricky things, and she knew Nick well enough to know that the emotional game they were playing could lead to disaster. In many ways he was the epitome of the perfect guy. Not to say that he didn't do his best to blend in with Joe Blow Average, but she was well aware that deep down inside, his old family values were firmly entrenched, and she'd truly meant it when she said that some day he would make an amazing father and husband. Despite the regular roster of women lined up on his dating schedule, her pregnancy and the situation surrounding it had provided the perfect opportunity to take on a role, which he himself probably didn't even realize he desired. As a result he'd been hurt. He hadn't said as much, but she could see it in his eyes when he'd left the room. And if she could have, she would have forced herself to love him enough to try and build something with him, but as it stood her heart was non-cooperative at the best of times.

The nurse blinked her gray eyes at her, clearly waiting for a reply.

"He..." She swallowed dryly. "He was supposed to send someone else in…" The words stumbled from her mouth much like the thoughts tumbling through her head. What if Grissom didn't want to see her? What if he hated her for keeping his child from him? And now that it was probably too late, how could she ever make it up to him? Or would she even get the opportunity to try?

"Okay then, we'll let you know as soon as the doctors have a chance to compare your test results."

Sara closed her eyes, and nodded slightly hoping for a few minutes of solitude. She heard rather than saw the door open and close, and felt the weight of sleep tugging her down towards the abyss. Trapped between the realm of consciousness, and solace of REM sleep, she jumped when she felt a warm palm brush her face.

"Hey…"

The voice both soothed and terrified her, but despite the desire to do the opposite she allowed her eyes to flutter open. Two stunningly clear blue eyes stared back at her. His touch was gentle as it moved along her cheek and through the curly mess that was her hair.

"I'm sorry…" They were the first words to fall out of her mouth. She hadn't actually planned it that way, but her culpable heart got the better of her head. "I should have told you."

Grissom leaned in and shook his head. There would be time for apologies later and not all of them would be coming from the woman in the hospital bed. "That's not important now." And he meant what he said. Despite his anger at not being told, he understood why she'd done it. Part of loving Sara, was knowing her.

His mouth found her forehead and he planted the softest kiss there. He loved her with all her heart, that's why he'd allowed her to talk him into letting her go in the first place. Doing the right thing had been her idea from the outset, but the right thing wasn't always right. He knew this now.

"But I kept it a secret and now it's too late." There were tears in her eyes as she uttered the words. The drugs had dulled the pain, but she could still feel the sensation of the cramping and it had been getting progressively worse. "This is all my fault."

"Shhhh." He consoled her and took a seat in the chair beside her; his fingers weaving their way through hers.

"I should have been more careful." Her free hand moved to her stomach protectively.

"Sara…" Grissom was going to try to calm her and explain to her that it was no one's fault but the door swung open and both Nick and Catherine burst in.

"You ran off before we had a chance to finish." The blonde woman pointed out, a heightened level of pissed off marring her face.

"We were as done as we were going to be." Grissom replied sharply.

"No man, you need to hear us out." Nick's eyes dropped to the couple's clasped hands a mixture of guilt and despair floating through him. "That call I got, was from Hodges." He directed his comment to his boss. "Can we take this outside and I'll make it quick…"

Grissom shook his head. He'd finally managed to get in to see Sara, he wasn't about to leave her side for a minute.

"Nick, if it involves me. I need to know." Sara's words were sluggish, but her eyes said it all. She didn't want to be kept in the dark about anything.

"Okay…." He was momentarily uncertain. He didn't want to upset her anymore than she already was. But in the end he decided that she deserved to know the truth, no matter how horrible. He directed this comment at Sara. "I was right. Your tea was laced with Queen Anne's lace, Black Cohosh, Blue Cohosh, and Pennyroyal. Plus some other trace herbs. I asked the doctor, that's a miscarriage cocktail."

Horror plastered the entomologist's face. "What are you saying, Nick?"

"He's saying that Sara was poisoned." Catherine replied waving the files she held in her hand. It was a clear indicator that she thought all of the incidents were related. "Her tea was mixed with a bunch of herbs meant to cause a natural abortion."

Grissom's face changed from its normal Nevada tan to a pasty white and he looked anxiously at the trembling brunette in the bed. "You think your suspect did this?" He fixed his eyes on Catherine. Cold fear followed by white hot fury coursed down his spine. "Aside from the fact that this person would have to have intimate knowledge of both you and Sara's habits, she would also have to have known that Sara was pregnant." He eyed the three of them his gaze finally settling on the tear stained face of the woman beside him. "Unless I'm the only one who has been left in the dark when it comes to this particular bit of info…" The looks of guilt on Nick, Catherine and Sara's face said it all.

"As I told you before, I knew." Catherine held her hand up before Grissom had a chance to speak. "But only for a few days, and as far as I know it wasn't common knowledge." She looked to Nick for confirmation. "They wanted to keep it a secret for a while until they got their bearings. I was willing to give them that, as long as Sara was careful with her safety."

Confusion marred the nightshift supervisor's face for a moment, before another piece of the puzzle clinked firmly into place. She'd said the same thing earlier but it hadn't sunk in. Obviously, Nick and Sara's little charade had been played out on Catherine, too. And she'd clearly bought it.

The expression on the younger man's face confirmed it, and he shrugged but didn't offer a comment either way. This action in and of itself indicating that it was up to Grissom to let the cat out of the bag as to the true origin of the baby.

Grissom decided that that was something he would tackle later, instead he nodded silently. "So as far as you know, the only people who were aware that she was pregnant were the three of you?"

"No, Brass knew too, but he would never say anything." Sara mumbled sleepily.

Nick nodded. "He figured it out a short time ago. But that's it – or at least we thought it was." The Texan held up the book he was still carrying and then passed it to the older man. "You need to check inside the front cover."

Grissom cast speculative glance at the Texan and then gave Sara's hand a quick squeeze before reluctantly letting go. Reaching into the bag his face colored when he tugged the text out. Ignoring the amused stare from Catherine as her eyes caught the cover; he cracked it open and scowled upon seeing damage that had been done to it. A second later his gaze fell on the test strip.

Catherine had moved up beside him and he heard her sharp intake of breath at the words that had been written, and the clearly positive test strip.

It took him a moment to connect the dots, and then he brought his eyes to meet Catherine and Nick's, a series of synapses in his brain shooting it into over drive. He was on his feet in an instant. "Does this mean what I think it does?" He waved the book in the direction of the two people in front of him, and then realizing what he was doing, he then hastily shoved it back into the bag.

"Frankly, I don't know what it means." Catherine replied. Her surprise and frustration was evident in the grimace on her face. "The call I received was from the psychiatrist in charge of Marla Pinkton's case, well the adult Marla. According to them, they have no copies of her fingerprints on file. Apparently, she'd been in the system such a long time that no one ever thought to take them. Dr. Muller is going to get in touch with the Bronx children's hospital where she'd been incarcerated before being transferred to Manhattan, he's going to see if they have any on file, but he's wasn't overly hopeful. I asked about personal items figured maybe we could get a print from them, but they only held onto them for a year and then they dumped them. He said something about no room for storage."

"Guys…" All eyes in the room turned to the woman lying in the bed. "Who is Marla Pinkton?"

"That's the name CODIS spit out," Catherine explained, "when we ran DNA on the shirt and shoes."

"Not Alicia?"

"No…" The blonde woman shook her head.

"But Cath has a theory…" Grissom said point in fact. He did as well and the thought was enough to make him nauseous. Not because he gave a damn about the woman in question, but rather from the guilt that came with the realization that he had somehow brought this whole mess down onto Sara and their child. "And since the book was the one you left at my house, and someone there other me actually works at the lab, would have access to the book, your schedules, and all of the other personal information required to do all of this stuff, it's pretty obvious who you're thinking."

"Yeah…." Catherine found herself back to the same place she'd been in early. Regret marred her face despite the fact that the emotion rolling off her friend was more anger than sadness, or upset. She watched as he paced and then caught him as he turned back to look at her. "But don't think that this is a personal vendetta or anything, Gil, and really we can't jump to conclusions yet, because the DNA information muddies the water. She really doesn't look at all like the photo of young Marla."

"People's faces can change – especially in this day and age of drive up surgery." Grissom pointed out. "Does any of the other evidence support that Alicia and Marla may be one and the same? The jacket that you said was obtained during an illegal search and the piece of shoe…." He gazed at Catherine and then Nick. "Where did you get them from? Her locker at work?"

"Ah… no..." The younger man shook his head and deferred to Catherine, who in turn cast a glance at Sara.

The drugs had hit her pretty hard, and there was a think blanket of surreal drifting across her normally sharp mind. She simply smiled. "I got it. Not my best work though…" She mumbled almost unintelligibly.

"You collected it?" Grissom stopped pacing and moved back to stand beside the slim brunette, his face betraying a mix of anger and worry.

Sara nodded slowly. "Sorry. I was looking for the shoe…" She caught her slip, but it was far too late to cover it. "Well…book too." She added dumbly.

"You found the items at my townhouse?" Grissom's face should have betrayed some sort of surprise but instead there was a tempered resignation plastered all over it.

"Yeah…" Sara sighed, and fought to keep her eyes open; all the while silently cursing the drugs she'd been given.

"You let her do this?" Grissom turned to Nick, the hair on the back of his neck literally standing on end at the danger she'd clearly put herself in.

"Uh…uh… No sir. That's what we were arguing about when she collapsed." He wasn't sure whether to add then next part or not, but at that point he was already in so much hot water he figured why the hell not. "I was actually supposed to go with her."

Grissom rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure what to be pissed about at this point; the fact that they had planned searching his home on some trumped up excuse or the fact that Sara had endangered herself by not listening to the younger man. He grimaced and rubbed his hand across his beard. "So each of you has suspected that Alicia was behind this, all this time?"

"Well…" Catherine simply pursed her lips and then nodded. "I had my suspicions for a while. I shared them with Nick and Sara when I thought I had some proof. Not that the sneaker was conclusive, but it sure as hell narrowed the field down to a few women at the lab, and when Sara offered to go with Nick to check your… Uh… fiancé's closet, I thought it was a good idea."

"It was." Nick quickly added. "She found the sweater there, along with the shoe, and the book." Moving up along side Sara, he reached down and squeezed her other hand. "I just wish we'd found out what she was up to earlier, eh buttercup?"

"Mmmm…" Sara moaned uncomfortably, her hand clasping her stomach.

The cramping was getting worse.

"The tea can be traced back to her as well." Nick added. "The canister was one she gave back to Sara, and the one in the lab was readily accessible to everyone. I am having the tea from her apartment checked out as we speak. Vartan ran over to grab it."

The nightshift supervisor nodded darkly. "Call Brass, have her brought in. Get a DNA sample. We can compel one based on the evidence," he ordered, his attention shifting to the woman on the bed beside him. "If it comes back as a match Pinkton, I want her charged with attempted murder."

"What about the search?" The blonde woman stared at her old friend.

"What about it? Sara had my permission to search the house for her book. The search was legit." Grissom grumbled.

"Okay…" Catherine grinned at Nick. "So Alicia it is." She said a little too happily, causing her long time friend to scowl. Quickly, she turned to go and make the call to Brass, but stopped before she hit the door. "Uh, Nick said something about a maid to me out there… There's no way it could be her who's behind this?"

"My maid?" Grissom almost laughed at the though. "Cath, she's a fifty year old Mexican woman who has to say a dozen Hail Marys if someone even utters the word shit in her presence. If swearing is a crime in the eyes of God, I imagine murder certainly is as well."

"Many people have killed in the name of God." Nick pointed out. "And for their religious convictions."

"She had access to the clothes, the shoes, and the book." Catherine pointed out.

"Yeah, but no motive, and she's 4 foot 9, about two hundred pounds, doesn't jog or wear sneakers, and I doubt she has the mechanical knowledge to rig a car, or any evidence gathering skills to speak of. In fact, she calls the lab, the criminale place."

"Right…" Cath cast a Cheshire cat grin at everyone in the room and then exited.

"I think you made her day." Nick couldn't help but blurt.

Grissom scowled again, although somewhere in the recesses of his mind he was thinking the same thing about the last few months of his life. Truth be told, if the whole thing played out as he expected, this turn of events made his entire year. "Try month…" He added with an almost grin.

A low whimper emanated from the bed drawing both men's attention to the woman lying in it. Her normally beautiful face was twisted in pain and there was a slight sheen of sweat beading her forehead.

Grissom felt like a hole had been drilled straight through his heart. "Nick, can you get a doctor or nurse?"

Dark eyes met blue, and the younger man nodded sullenly and then left the room.

"I'm sorry…" Sara mumbled again. She could feel another rush of blood from between her legs. She'd been fighting the minor contractions all along, trying convince her rebelling body to hold onto what was rightfully hers. But it had been a losing battle from the start.

"Shhhh…" Grissom leaned in his mouth brushing her forehead and then her two lips. "Right now, you're the most important thing…" His hand sought out and gripped hers.

"But I should have told you." She sucked in a trembling breath.

Grissom nodded. "Yeah. You should have, but I understand why you didn't." He kissed her again and moved to sit on the bed beside her hoping his touch would help ease some of the pain she was feeling. "This is as much my fault as it is anyone's." There were tears in her eyes as he studied her flushed face.

"Why would she do this?" Sara mumbled through gritted teeth. "I wasn't a threat to her. She had you, a marriage and child on the way…"

"If she is Pinkton, it's likely there's no reason, Sara." His hand slowly brushed across her hair. "The workup Catherine received indicates that she's seriously mentally ill. She's been in institutions since she was a small child."

Sara swallowed hard, and moaned. "I have never wanted to kill someone in my life until now."

"Shhhhh…." Grissom turned around so he was sitting directly beside her, and then he pulled her shaking form against him. He was thinking the very same thing. At this point he didn't care if the head case was carrying his child.

"What's going on?" The words were out of the doctor's mouth even before he'd cleared the doorway.

"I'm bleeding again." She swiped angrily at the tears sliding down her cheek.

"A dampness or a gush?" The doctor asked, his face betraying the fact that he wasn't all that surprised by the turn of events.

"Gush…" Sara stared with sad eyes at the man on the bed next to her. She didn't need to say what she was thinking, Grissom already knew and it hurt like hell. Their child was gone.

The doctor nodded. "I was expecting that." He announced grimly, but with the detachment of someone used to giving bad news. "Your most recent blood tests have come back. The HCG levels have dropped over the last few hours; this is a strong indicator that you've already lost the fetus. There's a good chance that what you just experienced was your body expelling the placenta. It's very small, probably the size of a grape at 5 weeks." He eyed the couple in front of him, uncertain as to the man's place in the whole scenario. "I'm really sorry Ms. Sidle."

Sara had stopped listening at this point and was curled into Grissom, the steady heaves of her chest the only indication that she was sobbing.

Despite the fact that his own heart was breaking, not only for the child he'd just lost, but also the woman in his arms, Gil Grissom, nodded in the other man's direction and mumbled a pained. "Thank you, Doctor."

"I'll give you a few minutes with this, but we're going to need to do a D&C, just in case she didn't expel the entire placenta, that could lead to hemorrhaging." The doctor announced and then left.

"Brass is going to pick her up. She's not at the lab. Apparently, she's still out at the dump." Catherine paced uncertainly for a moment, then turned and gazed at the young man slumped in the chair, his head in his hands. Greg had been called back to the lab, to handle a shooting at the Palms with Warrick, who had called just a few minutes earlier. He was severely pissed and complaining that he at not being given the time to even visit to the hospital to see Sara. According her friend, Eckie was freaking out because days was swamped, swing was already pulling doubles, and four of the graveyard staff were busy at the hospital. Catherine had assured Warrick that she'd take over his case with Greg as soon as she was done with Brass so he could be freed up for a visit. She'd given him a quick explanation of everything, but had merely skimmed the details in the interest of time. In the end she was still left with one big problem; she needed to go, because she wanted to be there when they brought the psycho bitch in, but she didn't want to leave the young Texan alone, either.

Nick hadn't responded to her earlier comment, so the blonde woman moved to sit next to him. "She's going to be, okay." The blonde woman leaned in and nudged him. "Sara's in good hands." She steered clear of any mention of the baby, though, because personal experience, and an early miscarriage of her own, had taught her just how tentative a pregnancy could be.

"I know." He nodded. "I just… She's so upset, you know. It's hard to watch." He rubbed his tired eyes, trying to hide the moisture in them.

The blonde woman nodded slowly. "You should go in there. Be with her. I'm sure she needs you."

"Yeah…" Nick rubbed at his face and then bobbed his head. "I just wanted to let Gris have a few minutes with her since; we barged in on them earlier, and the doctors are really pushing the one visitor at a time rule." The young man had decided that it would be best for all concerned that he not mention the fact that Sara had been bleeding when he'd left. Or that the doctor had been called. That would lead to another whole slew of questions about why Grissom was in the room with the mother of _his_ child, when _he _should rightfully be.

"Screw that." Catherine said caustically. "She's your girlfriend, and that's your baby. Gris can just wait." She stood up and began to pace again. "Besides he had his chance with her way back when."

Nick shook his head. "That's not what this is about. They're friends. And she wanted to see him."

Catherine gazed at her companion curiously. Part of her was silently wondering if maybe he was avoiding the inevitable. Some men just couldn't handle emotionally difficult situations. But she'd never pegged Nick as one of them. He seemed to be made of sturdier stock than that. "Okay..." She eyed the phone clenched in her hand willing it to ring. Brass was supposed to call when he had the other woman in custody.

"You should go, you know." The young man said suddenly. "You don't have to stick around here because of me. I'm gonna give Gris five more minutes with Sara and then I'll head in. I know you want to be there when Brass brings Alicia into PD."

"Are you sure?" Worried blue eyes met brown.

"Yeah." Nick nodded and then looked away. "We'll be okay, and I'll call if anything changes."

Catherine moved slowly to her feet and then patted the younger man on the shoulder. "Call me right away. Okay?"

"I will."

Somewhat assured, Catherine grabbed her bag off a nearby table, and then cast a final glance at the forlorn younger man before leaving the room.

Closing his eyes, Nick rested his head back against the wall. His thoughts were swimming. A mix of pain, fear, and regret sat solidly in his chest making it difficult to breathe. As much as he knew in his head that what he was doing was right, the emotional side of him was a having trouble dealing with it. It was scary to think that he had been so easily been caught up the entire charade, and even more terrifying to realize that if the baby died there would be a permanent hole left in his heart by thoughts of what might have been. His hand went to his eyes and he rubbed away the tears there. He really had no right to cry. The child was Grissom's not his, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"Mr. Stokes."

The doctor was standing in the room staring at him with sad eyes. The look on the man's face told him all he needed to know, but Nick was driven to ask anyway. "Is everything, okay?"

"I'm sorry sir."

The Texan accepted this silently and then turned away from the man in the doorway, his heart shattering for himself, and the couple down the hallway.

TBC

A/N: Sorry. I know you all hate me. But this was preordained. When I set out to write a story I know most of the plot points before I put pen to paper, or in this case fingers to keyboard, and I have to say that the baby's future was bleak form the outset. I know many of you wanted him/her to survive, but it would be impossible to do that and keep the story cannon. So please forgive me. Also I apologize for how long it took me to post this chapter. It was a hard one to write, because I am trying to string together all the details, and tie up a few of the loose ends, and remember where I put everyone. Also I over the last two weeks I came down with a case of hives, and sprained my ankle, and had a gazillion of other things going on. No excuse I know but I was guilt ridden about it so I wanted to let you know I didn't make you wait on purpose. Thank you to ALL you take the time to review. Your words are cathartic.

I will not keep you waiting this long for the next chapter.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N Sorry about the wait. Not beta'd. I am already working on the next chapter! Thanks for your patience things have been insane lately. You are all amazing readers!

**Chapter 24**

Grissom was reluctant to let go of Sara's hand. Despite the fact that she was at the moment dead to the world, finally pulled down into a heavy slumber by both her exhaustion and the bolus of Propofol she'd received via IV.

Her face was red and tear streaked, and eyes swollen from the news they'd received earlier. But regardless of this, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He leaned in and brushed away a loose strand of hair clinging to one damp cheek.

The intern stood at the foot of the bed, staring at him speculatively, and trying to explain the procedure to him, but the entomologist wasn't listening. Shell-shocked and still aching, he nodded at the appropriate gaps in the conversation and did his best to digest the last few months of his life and how they'd come to be in the very situation they'd found themselves in.

"I need someone to sign for the procedure…" The intern's gaze trailed the otherwise empty room and then back at Grissom. "Do you know where Mr. Stokes has gone?"

"I'll sign…" The night shift supervisor held out a hand, but the other man shook his head. "I need a next of kin or spouse. Barring that, I need someone with the authority to make such a decision. Mr. Stokes being the baby's father, and Ms. Sidle's partner would be the one I need."

"I'm the baby's father, and…" He stared down at the woman in the bed, wondering what kind of a future they had together. He cleared the raspiness from his throat. "And I'm her partner. I'm also her boss, and listed as her next of kin in the event of an emergency."

The doctor gazed at him uncertainly; his face saying it all. This was clearly not what he'd been told by the patient herself.

"If you need me to, I'll have the paperwork sent over immediately from our HR department. Or you can ask Mr. Stokes if we can find him."

The doctor opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a voice behind him.

"I'm here, and he can sign them." Nick was standing just inside the door, his eyes red rimmed and face stoic.

Grissom's heart went out to the younger man. He knew what it was like to buy into a dream and have it ripped away. Silently, he took the sheets from the doctor and read them before signing in the appropriate places. Passing them back to the intern, Grissom watched as the man left the room and then turned to Nick. "She's a sleep. The drugs they gave her were to prep her for a D&C."

The younger man nodded. "Catherine went down to PD. Greg is helping Warrick on a murder at the Palms. It's just me and you for now."

Grissom nodded.

"I didn't say anything to Catherine about you and Sara, or the baby. But I imagine she may have some questions at some point." There was a flash of anger in the Texan's eyes, but he didn't say anything more.

"It wasn't me, Nick…"

The man's hands moved to his hips. "What do you mean?"

"If I had a choice I wouldn't have kept it a secret. I love her. I have for a long time, but lab policy…"

"Screw lab policy..." The anger did reach the young Texan's voice this time as it rose incrementally, but it was cut off by the return of the nurse and an orderly.

"We should be back within the hour if you want to wait here." She said to both of the men. "It's a quick procedure, usually in and out in 20 minutes, and then another 30 or so in recovery." With that she and the orderly unlocked the bed Sara was laying in and wheeled her out the door.

30 minutes… The number rolled around in Grissom's head. 30 minutes that was all it took to erase all traces of something that he and Sara had created. Not that it surprised him since it most times it took only a mere second to end a life. But this was far more personal and ultimately more painful.

"Screw lab policy." Nick repeated. "Not only did that whackjob of a girlfriend or fiancé or whatever the hell she is of yours manage to keep her job at the lab she managed to get transferred onto the same shift."

Grissom sighed. "That wasn't my doing." He knew Nick was angry. He more than understood the hurt the younger man was going through. He also knew that he needed someone to take it out on, and as much as he wasn't willing to be his whipping boy, he was willing to stem his own anger and handle his friend and coworker with patience. "It was all Alicia. She knew how to play Ecklie."

"Bullshit." The Texan shook his head. "Even if she did, you had some say. Couldn't you have stepped in and stopped her? You know Sara deserved better than to have to come to work every day pregnant with your kid, and pretend she wasn't bothered by seeing you two together."

"That's not fair, Nick. If I had known she was pregnant I wouldn't even have been with Alicia." Grissom rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. "Hell I didn't want to be with her from the outset. But I had no choice."

"You always have a choice, Gris."

"What? Kill my child? Or lose the woman I love?" Grissom turned away at this, not wanting the younger man to see the naked emotion on his face. He'd managed to convince himself that Sara would have left at some point anyway, so why fight the inevitable. This was how he'd managed to carry on the charade as long as he had.

Despite his desire to hide it, Nick caught the flash of pain in the other man's eyes, and it stalled his next words before he had a chance to utter them. He was still angry and hurting for Sara, but Grissom was right. He had no idea what it was like to be put in that kind of a position. "What are you going to do now? If Brass arrests Alicia, she'll be giving birth in jail; she won't be able to raise a baby there. Plus if she is Marla Pinkton, she'll probably be hopping a one way flight back to Manhattan and the loony bin before you can blink."

"I don't even know if she's pregnant, Nick. She may never have been, or she may have aborted it already." Grissom shrugged, wondering how his life had gotten so out of control.

"What about the ultrasound photo?"

"I wasn't there for it. It could be stolen, or…" The entomologist shrugged. "I don't know. The file said, manipulative, and brilliant. I'm sure she could have thought of a way to get one."

"Well, you'll know soon enough. When they run DNA have them do a blood test too." Nick suggested.

Grissom merely nodded. He'd fully intended to, but at this point knowing was almost as terrifying as not knowing.

"What are you going to do about Sara?" Nick stared at his boss, hoping for the beautiful brunette's sake that his boss would be there for her despite whatever ended up happening with Alicia. He also knew he really had no right to ask since it was the couple's personal business, but dammit, after all he'd been through he had a right to know. Plus if the man wasn't going to follow through on his commitment where she was concerned, someone was going to have to be there to pick up the pieces, and this time he wouldn't be holding anything back.

"Whatever Sara wants."

The Texan shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. "That's a cop out, man. Sara doesn't know what she wants. She's thoroughly traumatized right now. What she needs is some one to step in and take some control over the situation."

"Not the Sara I know." Grissom new better to try and force anything on Sara.

Nick rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand along his stubbled chin. He couldn't believe that he was standing there trying to give his boss love advice. "Look, you're right. Normally, Sara would be pissed as hell at being told what to do and all that. But she's been through a lot, and sometimes you need to push a little, you know...?"

"I just don't want to make matters worse…"

Nick watched as his boss slumped into the empty visitor's chair. "Then you have to do something, inaction is an action in and of itself, Gris – you taught me that. You can't let her deal with this on her own. Sara's one of the strongest people I know, but even the strong need a hand up sometimes. Make your decision, and then do what you know is right. Don't do that stiff upper lip thing you do. That will just kill her."

"Nick, do you know how many times over the last few weeks I've approached her? I knew from the outset that letting her talk me into this mess with Alicia was wrong, but I knew I had lost her regardless of my actions. The only thing I was hoping for was that she wouldn't end up hating me too. That's why I tried to go along with what she wanted."

"She loves you. That's why she made the decision for you. She took away your power to choose, to make it easier on you emotionally. She removed herself from the picture so you wouldn't have to decide between her and your own flesh and blood. Now you need to do the same for her." The young CSI threw his hands out at the side, as if crucifixion was imminent. "Come up with a plan, hell come up with three or four, and throw them all at her. Be unrelenting if you want her back. Plus, you need to make absolutely sure of what you are going to do if Marla, and Alicia turn out not to be one and the same. Are you still going to stay with her if she's pregnant and innocent? You can't waffle on this."

Grissom made to answer but Nick waved him off. "I'm not the one who needs to hear whatever you have to say. All I want to know is; am I going to be picking up the pieces? Cuz if that's the case, go home now and I'll take care of her. It'll hurt less that way. But remember if you leave I'll consider that the point of no return."

The niggling headache that had been floating in the back of his mind for days was creeping up on him again. The bugman massaged his temples and nodded adamantly. "I know what I want."

Nick nodded silently. "Good. Then make sure she does, too." He pointed to the door. "We have some time. I'm gonna go call Jim to see if he nabbed Alicia yet, and then get some coffee before I fall asleep. You want anything?"

The night shift supervisor shook his head and then watched with sad eyes as the younger man left the room. Only then did he allow the tears to fall.

* * *

"You can't be serious…" Catherine was steering one handed and managed to bounce off the curb before pulling into the crime lab parking lot. Slamming on her breaks as a car pulled out in front of her, she laid hard on the horn and then jammed her palm into it again, when the driver flipped her the bird. Less than thirty seconds later she was stomping across the asphalt her heels making pockmarks in the super heated pavement. "Well did you check the damn townhouse?"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Alicia had pulled a Houdini. The temptation to throw the cell phone she was carrying was only stemmed by the fact that she actually needed it to finish the conversation. "Well did you check her locker?"

Clearly, Brass' reply was an unsatisfactory one, because the stream of expletives that spewed from her mouth immediately after would have put a trucker to shame. "Screw that. You and I know she's guilty as sin."

"Well dammit, Grissom is not in charge here, I am. We need that DNA sample. We need that bloodwork, and to get that we need to find her and haul her ass in here so we can nail it to the wall. And I don't give a shit about protocol."

Pulling the door of the crime lab open the angry blonde slammed the phone in her hand shut and stared at the man who'd been on the other end mere seconds before.

"You need to give a shit about protocol, Catherine." Brass moved up, placed his arm on her back and nudged her down the hallway. "As it stands, she's not considered a suspect, yet." Brass stared dully at the woman in front of him, unimpressed and undisturbed by their earlier heated exchange. "I understand you have some compelling evidence that is likely connected to her. But this is a human being and until all of the dots have been connected she's still innocent until proven guilty. I can't turn her personal and professional life completely upside down until I know for sure. Now, I sent a car out to the townhouse, and Grissom just gave me permission to go in and see if her stuff is still there, so we're making progress."

Catherine scowled. "Yeah and by the time it's all put together she'll be in the wind."

"I understand your concern. And believe me I believe she's as guilty as the top whore at Madame Chow's brothel, but what I think and what the law sees as right are two different things." They stopped together in front of Ecklie's office. The man was hunched over a file staring at it like it was an alien life form. "And since you are the one in charge of this, as you so aptly reminded me, you get to explain to your boss why we need to break into his favorite employee's locker."

Catherine rolled her eyes and was about to knock when Judy waved her over to the reception desk. "Ms. Willows…." The curly haired blonde stared at her and waved a rather large manila envelop in her direction. "This just came for you."

She was going to tell the bouncy receptionist to just hold onto it, when the young woman suddenly read out the return address. "It's from the Bronx Children's Psychiatric Hospital…"

A sigh of relief broke free from Catherine Willow's chest as she hightailed it over and snatched the stuffed envelop from the other woman's hands. "Let's get a coffee…" She called back towards Brass and headed for the breakroom her fingers already rifling through the files in envelope. As much as it pained her to admit it, Brass was right. Absolute proof was illusive, and if she was going to accuse Alicia of everything she thought the young woman had done, then she best have something to back it up. Hopefully, it could be found in the reams of paperwork the institution had sent her.

* * *

Catherine was hovering and it was pissing Mandy off.

It wasn't that they didn't get along, although, admittedly they'd probably never be the best of friends. Mandy was generally a happy soul who was contentedly meticulous in doing her job, whereas the woman standing behind her had a hard edged intensity about her that was grating on the young fingerprint analyst's last nerve. It had been bad enough that she had rushed in and demanded that Mandy process the print she'd pulled from some ancient file, but she then insisted on sticking around and breathing down her neck for the full half hour the machine had been running its comparison.

"This could take a long time." She reminded the blond. "I mean sometimes it pulls a rabbit out of the hat almost instantly, but most times, as you well know it could take up to a couple of hours."

It was a polite way of saying; _get lost and I'll call you when I have something_, but Catherine completely ignored it. Preferring instead to sip her coffee and stamp her toe occasionally as if that was going to make the process move along any faster.

"It's a really old print. That's why the comparison is taking so long. See the frayed edges, and the smudging, plus the fact that it's a child's and it may take up almost double the time to match it."

Catherine had been tempted to stop the process and simply have Mandy run in against Alicia's prints, but that would open up a whole new spectrum of office gossip. Normally, when it was Joe Average Suspect they were dealing with, they would do just that. But considering the fact that Alicia worked at the crime lab, and the fact that intimating her involvement in everything that had happened could be construed as slander, and a was most definitely a career killer, she decided it would be a better idea just to toss it into the system and let her pop up naturally. That way no one could say that the blonde woman was out to get her newest team mate.

"Hey, how's Sara?" Warrick poked his head in the lab door.

"She's okay." Catherine turned and moved out into the hallway, giving the fingerprint tech a little breathing room. "Nick called a few minutes ago. She lost the baby, and they were taking her in for a D&C, but physically she's going to be alright."

Warrick shook his head. "Pregnant… Man. You know, Nicky didn't say a thing to me."

The blond woman shook her head. "So what? Are you his bosom buddy or something?"

"No, but we're friends - close friends…" He shrugged. "I just…I figured he might mention something this big to me. He told you."

Catherine grinned at this. "Well he actually didn't. I found out. I overheard them talking in the locker room. So don't take it personally. They didn't want anyone to know. I think they were afraid of losing their jobs or being transferred."

"That's weird. I mean why? It's not like they were going to lose their jobs or anything over it. If Grissom could do it they why the hell couldn't they?"

"Sometimes being boss has its privileges; maybe that's one of them." The blonde woman winked.

Warrick rolled his eyes. "How did Grissom handle the news?"

"Who knows? This whole thing with Alicia doesn't seem to have him too broken up." She pointed out, at the same time grabbing Warrick's arm and leading him into an empty layout room. The whole lab didn't need to hear all the gory details.

"Well that doesn't surprise me none. That whole marriage thing with her was way off; to begin with." Warrick shrugged and shut the door behind him.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that. What you see isn't always what you get with Grissom." Catherine pointed out.

Warrick shook his head, and leaned up against the layout room's soul table. . "I haven't gotten anything I have seen lately with him."

The blond woman smiled at that. "True."

"How did he take the whole thing with Sara?"

"He was concerned."

Warrick raised his eyebrows. "Just concerned?"

"Yeah… What are you getting at?"

The black man shrugged again and crossed his arms over his chest. "Just that he's always had a thing for her."

"Come on. That's been over a while." Catherine scoffed.

"You sure?" Warrick dropped his voice so the tech passing by couldn't hear. "He may get engaged, and even married, but I've seen the way he looks at her sometimes and it ain't over for him."

"Well I think the fact that she was carrying another man's baby might mean it's over for her." The blonde woman was about to expand on her thoughts when there was a tight rap on the door.

All eyes in the room turned to see a panicked looking Mandy standing on the other side of the glass. Warrick reached for the door, and swung it open. "What can I do for you?" He smiled a genuine smile.

"I uh…" She waved a printed sheet in front of her, looking both horrified and apologetic. "Is Dr. Grissom around?"

"Just give it to me." Catherine ordered and held her hand out to the younger woman.

"I uh…" Mandy looked to Warrick for help, but he nodded in Catherine's direction indicating that the young fingerprint tech should hand over the paper or possibly risk a painful death. "I don't think I should give this to you without showing it to Grissom first." She dropped her voice almost apologetically.

Any further argument was arrested when the blonde reached out and snatched the results from the young tech's hand. "We got a match!" She announced almost gleefully, and yanked her cell from her pocket. Hitting the redial button and the speaker phone in tandem she waited and grinned as Brass picked up with a gruff, "What do you got?"

"Alicia, and Marla, are one and the same. And that's based on an ancient fingerprint I found in the file." Catherine's joy was short lived, and the smile literally died on her face.

"Yeah, well she's gone." The seasoned cop sounded almost as defeated as Catherine felt.

"You have to be fucking kidding me…"

"I wish I was. Thanks…." Brass' voice drifted off as he mumbled directions to someone at the scene and then returned to the phone. "By the looks of it she's cleaned out her closet, and I had someone check the garage and there's no sign of her car. Now I have an APB out for her so if she's in town we'll nab her. But we have no idea how long of a head start she has, so she could be anywhere in Nevada, by now. Possibly further."

This time Catherine gave into her instincts and hurled he phone across the room.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

AN/ Busy, busy. busy… that's all I can say. But I have been plodding along with this, too. Not to worry we are getting close to the end. My apologies on any errors. This is not beta'd as usual. Hugs to you all for the reviews you are amazingly patient.

**Chapter 25**

There was a strong light being flashed in her eyes and it was pissing her off. She swiped at it listlessly and was surprised when warm strong fingers threaded their way through hers and tugged her hand back down onto the cool sheets. The feel of skin on skin, warmed her and soothed her soul and she knew without even having opened her eyes who was it was that was holding her hand.

She wanted to talk but her drug blanketed thoughts were easily distracted by the low beep of medical machinery that was bouncing in the background. She sucked in an uneasy breath as a band of pressure wrapped around her free arm. It lessened in increments but didn't loosen its hold entirely, and added to a feeling of being restrained. This only increased her unease.

Where the hell was she?

Her breathing escalated as she tried to shake all of the puzzle pieces into place, but a thick fog still clung to them making the edges of her thoughts indiscernible and disconnected. She swallowed hard; her mouth feeling every bit like she'd sucked up a large part of the Nevada desert. She moved to pull her hand away to take another swipe at the damn person flashing the light in her eyes, again, but found it firmly held in place.

"Relax you're okay…"

It was Grissom's voice, and it had effect of cooling salve on a painful burn. She relaxed visibly, and allowed herself to float through her thoughts. He was there. He would take care of her.

"She's going to be fine. Some people just don't respond to the anesthetics all that well."

Anesthetics? She was in the hospital. Why?

"Sometimes it's the type of drug the anesthetist chooses that causes the problem. They all have their favorites."

Drugs! Sara wanted to tell whoever it was that she was horrible with any kind of medication, but the inclination to open her mouth and voice that opinion simply wasn't there. Mostly, she just wanted to sleep.

"It's okay I'll stay with her and make sure she doesn't get herself into anymore trouble." Warm fingers stroked the back of her hand and she sighed internally.

"She gave old Ronnie a scare trying to fight her way out of bed like that." The voice announced. "He's not a big man and she almost waylaid him with an uppercut, apparently."

There was a distinctive laugh, followed by a press of warm lips on the back of her hand. "She's always been a fighter."

"Well, sleeping beauty won't be ready for round two for at least another four hours. The injection I'm giving her will make her sleep. Doctor's orders. She needs to heal."

She felt the hand holding hers squeeze it slightly in tandem with the low grumble of his words. "She's had a really rough week. The sleep will do her good."

There was a soft guffaw from the other person. "There are days I wish I could anesthetize myself. So I do get it, Dr. Grissom."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "Me too." He added his free hand running a heated path up her arm.

"If you'd like I can bring you a pillow. The chair's not all that comfortable, but a pillow makes it bearable." The young woman offered.

"Nope. I'll be fine." Grissom was dismissive, but kind.

"Okay. Well if you need anything there's a call button attached to the bed rails."

The soft pad of footsteps resounded in the room, and a moment later a rush of air followed by the slight bang of the door told her that the person had left.

"I love you." Grissom's words were choked, and the last thing Sara heard, as the drugs she'd just received worked their magic.

* * *

There was a soft snoring rasping in her ears. Sara turned her head stiffly in the direction it was coming from and the vision she encountered was almost comical. Grissom lay with his head resting on one of his texts, a small puddle of drool marring the wrinkled pages of book. He'd clearly fallen asleep reading, and in an attempt to get comfortable had almost built himself a pillow out of the crumpled pages. A louder snort followed as he mumbled something in his sleep. It was moments like this Sara wished she had a video camera simply for posterity's sake.

She stared at him a moment a smile perched on her face, and then it hit her through the fog of the drugs; He wasn't hers anymore. She closed her eyes. And either was their child…

Her hand moved to her abdomen and for the first time since the loss of her family, she truly felt empty. She'd felt alone before in her life, in fact she'd felt lonely many times, but the barrenness that had replaced the life inside her caused an ache that she knew she would carry with her forever.

Another snort and she couldn't help herself, the hand unencumbered by an IV snuck out and ran a liberal trail through Grissom's closely cropped gray curls. She allowed her fingers to linger there for a moment and then pulled away as his blue eyes blinked open.

"Hey…" He sat up, his face lined with indentations from the book. "How are you feeling?" He swiped that the dampness on his cheek, his gaze never leaving hers. There was such concern in his eyes that it brought tears to her own.

"I'm…" Sara stopped herself. She was going to declare that she was fine, but that would have been more than a lie. I would have been a blasphemy. And in a very big way it would have felt very much like she was denying how much she'd come to love and anticipate the child they'd created together. It was something she didn't want to diminish. She closed her chocolate colored orbs and rubbed away the wetness there before responding. "God… Gil. It hurts like hell…" At that she broke down, painful sobs wracking her body.

"Shhhh…." He'd took her into his arms instantly, his heart aching for her, but the pain he was feeling, was unimportant next to his need to lessen hers. He had to be strong for her. He somehow had to make the situation better. Adding to her sorrow with is own wouldn't do that. It would only make matters worse. "I'm here, okay?" He kissed the top of her head. "We'll get through this."

"We" was a funny word, she thought. There really wasn't a "we" any more. But for the moment that didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that the two of them were together, and being held in Grissom's arms, she felt a small ray of hope.

"I'm sorry…" It was the nurse, she'd come in quietly with the intention of checking on her patient and removing the IV.

Sara rubbed at her eyes with a trembling hand and made to pull away, but Grissom held her tight.

"Can you give us a minute?"

The dark eyed nurse nodded silently and turned off the IV pump on the almost empty bag. "I'm going to disconnect her; the doctor wants to take a final peek, and then Ms. Sidle you can go home."

"So soon?" Grissom stared at the woman incredulous. "She's just had a miscarriage under traumatic circumstances I…"

"It's okay…" Sara's voice was small as she adjusted her face so she could look at the nurse.

"I know this sounds rather callous and I'm not minimizing your pain, but a D&C is usually an in and out procedure, we don't generally hold women for more than a few hours afterwards." She made her way towards the door, and then turned; feeling the need to explain a little further. "The doctor kept Ms. Sidle in a little longer because of the extenuating circumstances - the fact that her miscarriage involved herbal medications was a concern, as they have a tendency to cause health complications - but her most recent blood work has come back clean, and frankly the best place to recover is normally the patient's own home. The hospital is really just a place for sick people." She smiled piteously at the couple. "I'll be back in a few minutes with the paperwork and we'll get you unhooked."

Sara nodded silently, while the man holding her fumed. "If you want I'll pay out of pocket and you can stay another day."

The slim brunette shook her head and extracted herself fully from their embrace. "No. She's right." She stared at her long slim fingers as he weaved his own through hers. "I need to go home. I hate hospitals." Now more than ever… she added mentally. Her voice hiccupped slightly. "I just…" She stopped and shrugged. She was drained emotionally; empty physically, and there was an ache that had wound its way through her. "I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed, be with my own things."

Grissom placed his free hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her softly. "Whatever you want...

* * *

"I don't fucking believe it." Catherine Willows watched as the firemen from pump house number five reeled in the hoses and packed up the remainder of their equipment. The men and the truck from house number six had left only minutes before, but the fire chief was still on the scene and he was chatting with Jim Brass as Catherine addressed Warrick.

What came out of his mouth was more of a statement than a question. "You think it was her." The dark skinned man eyed her curiously; only a flicker of anger showing from behind his green eyes. To someone who didn't know him, he seemed unnaturally calm considering the situation. But the blonde woman, who was an expert at reading emotions - in particular that of her team mates - knew that what she was seeing was merely the tip of the iceberg where Warrick Brown was concerned.

"Is there any doubt?" She stared at him disbelievingly.

"Well yeah…" He shrugged, he knew he was playing devil's advocate and it would likely earn him some major ridicule, but Grissom had taught him well. "…three unrelated people dead and a 6 year old with third degree burns? That seems a little excessive, especially considering there was no real motive for it."

Her hand moved immediately to her hips and the tall black man knew he was in for it. "HELLO…. C-R-A-Z-Y…" She spelled the word outright, and then shook her head angrily in disbelief. "That psycho bitch didn't need a motive… Crazy never does." She spat.

"I'm just saying; let's let the evidence speak for itself." Warrick said in his most peaceable voice. "I get that you think it's her. I get that she's a whackjob. I even get that this seems a little too coincidental and I'm willing to concede that you're probably right…" He stared up at the remains of the small charred apartment building. "But I just don't get the why. So let's wait. See what the fire department turns up. Follow the trail of evidence."

"They know it was arson." Jim Brass announced looking anything but his usual formal suit clad self, as he walked up to the twosome. Having arrived shortly after the call had gone out, he'd pitched in with helping evacuate the tenants. Scratching his head, the police captain stuffed his notebook into his shirt pocket and grabbed a bottle of water from the open hatch of Catherine's truck. "They found a rag doused with gasoline tucked under bottom of the door to apartment 416."

The significance of the number was not lost on the two CSIs.

"They think the hallway carpet was doused, too." Somewhere along the way his jacket had been abandoned and his tie had been pulled loose to hang limply down the front of his soot smeared shirt. He popped the cap on the water and took a swig, wishing it was something far stronger. A little of the fluid trickled down the front of Brass' normally pristinely pressed shirt, and he wiped a few droplets from his chin. He looked very much like he'd been through hell and back. "The old lady." He indicated the ambulance that was just leaving, its sirens wailing. "They don't think she's gonna make it, either." She'd come stumbling from the burning building and had grabbed onto the first thing she could see. The impression of her blackened fingerprints still stained Jim Brass' sleeves.

"That'll be four dead." Catherine stated matter-of-factly, her eyes shifting to Warrick's; a told-you-so look plastered on her face.

"Seven with moderate to severe smoke inhalation, four with first or second degree burns, and that little girl…" The words stuck in Brass' throat. Her clothes had been completely on ablaze when the firemen had found her. "She'd been cornered by the fire at the end of the hallway. The mom said the cat had escaped the apartment and the Amy had gone after it." The detective grimaced. "No news on the kitty, though."

Warrick nodded sadly and Catherine simply stared at the building, fury coursing through her veins.

"Listen, I don't want to panic you or anything..." The detective's words brought Catherine back to reality. "But maybe you should call your mom and tell her and Lindsay to stay at one of Sam's hotels for the next few nights."

Catherine's blood simply froze and all the color immediately drained from her face. She'd been so focused on everything that had gone on the past 24 hours that she hadn't even given a thought to the safety of her own family. She held her hand out to Warrick who immediately passed her his phone.

The two men watched as the blonde woman moved away from the noise of the scene. "I'm going to call Grissom." Brass reached for his own cell. "He needs to know that Sara can't come back to her place." He cast a glance over his shoulder back at the still smoldering building. "It's been completely destroyed."

* * *

There was a soft knock on the door followed by two dark eyes peeking in. "Can I come in?" The attractive Texan looked like Grissom felt; exhausted, and hurting. At the behest of his supervisor he'd gone home, collected his mail, and had a quick shower before returning to the hospital. He hadn't slept and it showed.

Grissom nodded at the younger man and threw his eyes in the direction of the curtained area. "They're releasing her now. The nurse is just helping to get her dressed. We should be out of here anytime. I'm going to take her home."

A pained look flashed across Nick's face and he moved closer to his boss. "Yeah the doctor just told me…" He swallowed; a lead balloon sitting solidly in his stomach. "I just talked to Jim. He called me when he couldn't get through to you." His eyes flitted to the closed curtains. "We have a problem."

Grissom gripped the younger man's arm and tugged him off over into the corner. "Define problem."

Regret painted Nick Stokes' tanned visage. "Someone torched her apartment."

Something akin to an electric shock coursed up Grissom's spine. The whole situation had been perilously dangerous from the beginning, although at the time it was unbeknownst to him. And the recent knowledge of the Sara's pregnancy, the rigged car, the forced miscarriage, plus everything else that Catherine had told him finally sunk in and he dropped heavily into a nearby chair, doing his best to sort through the pieces.

He'd brought a killer into their lives.

A killer who was now solidly focused on Sara.

"Someone?" Grissom queried.

"Nothing definite yet. It was arson, and could have been set by anyone at this point." Nick reported.

"Is there any doubt that it was her?" It was more of a rhetorical question but Nick felt the need to respond.

"Not in anyone's mind, but Cath has called in a few good CSIs from days to work it, since we can't."

"Conflict of interest…" Grissom said more to himself than Nick. He shook his head in disbelief. "Was it contained? Was anyone hurt?"

The younger man swallowed the lump in his throat. "According to Cath, it started in the hallway directly outside of Sara's apartment so the fire was not contained. There are three people dead with the possibility of a fourth and a child of one of Sara's neighbors has third degree burns over most of her body."

He drew his hand down his face trying to rub away the encroaching exhaustion and resident horror. Two hours sleep slumped over the side of a hospital bed, had been more of a detriment than a benefit. His eyes found Nick's and he shook his head. He'd been so focused on Sara and the emotional whirlwind of losing their child that he'd put little thought into anything else. He'd succumbed to leaving the entire situation up to Catherine to deal with. It was not a good choice. Not to say that his friend wasn't good at her job, in fact she was one of the best. But she was generally reactive to situations, and in this case a proactive mind was the only thing that was going to stop the out of control train crashing through their lives. He should have realized that once cornered Alicia or Marla would attack. He'd seen it enough over the time they'd been living together. "Tell me I'm right in assuming that we know for certain that Marla and Alicia are one and the same…" He'd had his cell turned off as requested by the hospital, but it had left him horribly out of the loop.

"Yeah, when Cath phoned me to tell me about the fire, she said that just before they got the arson call, Mandy had made a match to an old fingerprint they'd found in a file sent to them from the children's hospital in NY. It was your – ah…fiancé." Nick stared at the man in front of him uncertain as to what to do. He'd never seen Grissom look quite so defeated.

Silence blanketed the room for a moment followed by the sound of the curtains being drawn back. "We're almost ready to go home…" The nurse announced with a little too much cheer in her voice.

Dark eye's met blue, as Nick shook his head and forced a smile to his face. "Hey buttercup..." He moved over to the brunette now perched on the side of the hospital bed, drew her into a gentle embrace and then planted a soft kiss on the side of her head.

Grissom watched on, a jolt of jealousy marring his thoughts, but he shooed it away knowing full well she would need as much support, friendship, and caring as she could get over the next few months.

"I'll be back with the paperwork." The nurse announced before dropping a bag of hospital issue booties on the bed and then exiting the room.

"Hey, yourself." Sara returned the younger man's hug and relaxed into it for a moment, before moving out of the arms.

"You doing alright?" Two sets of brown eyes met, both of them sharing a moment of sadness.

"I will be when I get out of here and into my own things." She rubbed her hands along the front of the hospital greens the nurse had helped her put on. Her own clothes had been tossed, the blood covering them rendering them trash. The paper underwear in particular were a treat. "I just want to go home."

Grissom was on his feet at this and made his way over to the twosome. There was a world of regret in his eyes as he cast a glace at Nick.

The Texan shook his head not wanting to be the bearer of bad news.

"I know you want to go home." Grissom took one of her fidgeting hands and gripped it, while Nicky slipped an arm around her shoulders. He stopped not knowing how to break the news to her.

Sara was miles ahead of them both. She could feel the change of emotion in the room from the moment the nurse had drawn the curtain back. "But…?" She offered, knowing full well that what she was about to hear was going to be bad.

"There's been a fire…"

Sara's eyes closed. "Where?" She already knew in her heart that it had to be her place.

"Your building." Grissom said softly his hand pumping hers. "It's okay though. If you want we can stay at my place. For the time being – until we get everything sorted out and from then on, we can play it by ear."

Nick silently grimaced, offering Sara a choice was a bad idea. The man was bad at taking advice. And his suggestion was clearly not thought out.

Sara shook her head. "I don't want to stay at your place."

"Sara…" Grissom looked momentarily perplexed and then prepared to launch into a convincing argument as to why she should set up house with him.

Nick up his hand. "Actually staying at your place is a bad idea. Aside from the fact that you have lived there with…_her…_ for the last month…" He cast an aggrieved look at the woman next to him. "I don't think Sara would be all that safe there." He shook his head at Grissom's amazed look. "Boss, she knows the alarm code, probably how to get in and out easily. She has keys to the place, and what's to stop her from planting a bomb in the middle of the livingroom and setting it off when you walk in the door one day? The woman's dangerous."

It hurt the older man to admit it, but Nick was right.

Sara stood up on wobbly legs. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Grissom gripped her arm to help lead her there but she shook him off. "I'll be okay."

Both men watched as she slipped into the closet like room and closed the door behind her.

Nick took the free time to drive his point home. "You can't take her back there, man. Aside from the fact that it's not safe, how would you feel if she asked you to stay at her place after she'd been living there with another man for a month or so?"

Grissom was silent for a moment. "I never slept with Alicia, Nick…"

"I didn't need to know that." The Texan shook his head trying to rid himself of the image his boss' words had put into his brain.

"But I didn't and she needs to know that."

The Texan smiled thinly. "You can have that heart to heart another time. It's not going to solve the immediate problem."

Grissom grimaced again, but remained silent.

"She needs to be somewhere she will feel safe and be protected. She needs time to heal emotionally, too."

"Okay, then I'll book us into the Venetian or something." The older man offered.

"Hotels are even less secure than your apartment, and you know it." Nick pointed out.

The two men dropped their voices as the door to the bathroom suddenly opened.

"Obviously you have somewhere in mind so out with it." The entomologist whispered, already knowing that he wasn't going to like the younger man's suggestion.

"Yeah." He raised his voice enough for the approaching woman to hear. "If you'd like she…" He turned to address Sara directly. "You can stay at my place."

Grissom was right. He didn't like the idea at all. "She probably already knows where you live." He countered. "If not, I imagine it wouldn't be too hard for her to find out."

"That would be true normally, but I moved a week ago."

Grissom looked uncertain, and Sara simply looked surprised.

"Not permanently. But I rented a sublet from a friend of mine who's out of town for the next three months. I had a termite problem and needed to get out because they are going to be ripping out and re-drywalling walls, putting beams in and all that. I haven't even told HR about the change." Nick smiled at Sara. "If you want, we can be roomies until the…uh…" He was going call Alicia or Marla something less than kind but he refrained. "Until we catch her."

Grissom felt his earlier jealousy swell again and made to protest.

Well aware of what was going through his boss' mind Nick hurried to assuage his concern. "You're more than welcome to come and stay, too." He added, although the thought of the Grissom and Sara sharing a bed together was almost crippling.

TBC…


	26. Chapter 26

"You are so screwed

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

A/N: This is a short chapter but it is a natural ending place. You will see why in the next chapter. Sorry I have taken so long with this. I am insanely busy. And while I have been caught up in so many other things, this story is still floating around in my head trying to kick its way out. This is unbeta'd forgive me. And I am notoriously bad at re reading it all because I am in a hurry to get it out so don't hate me because I may end up coming back to tweak it. Any and all feedback is much appreciated and definitely lights a fire under me. Thanks so much to those of you who have reviewed you make me want to finish this all the more faster.

**Chapter 26**

"You are so screwed." Warrick Brown shook head in his friend's direction and hung up a clean towel in his locker.

Nick simply grimaced.

"I gotta ask… What were you thinking, man?"

"The hell if I know." The Texan tossed his jacket into the locker and holstered up. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

"Not that I wouldn't help Sara out, I mean anytime, man. But you have Gris and Sara living with you?" He shook his head and guffawed slightly. "Do you like pain? It's bad enough you got her pregnant, and were…" he corrected himself. "…are involved with her. Did you have to move in anther man who has the hots for her in as well?"

Nick slammed his head against the locker door next to him several times hoping it would knock the image of Grissom perched dotingly on the edge of Sara's bed, out of his head. It didn't work. It simply made the headache he'd been sporting for the better half of the day, grow a lot worse. "It's complicated." Fortunately by the time they'd gotten Sara released and back to the condo it was just shy of 10 pm. After a quick and somewhat uncomfortable dinner, he managed to scoot out of the apartment tossing out excuses about needing to go to the drugstore. Something he'd actually done as well. His hand grabbed a small pink bottle from the Walgreens bag he'd brought with him, and he cracked the top and swigged it. "Really complicated." He scowled at the bottle of chalk-like substance he'd just ingested.

"You think?" The dark skinned man stared at his friend perplexed. "But I don't get it… why Grissom? Why does he have to be there? Shouldn't he be here? And you there? You lost your kid today. You can't tell me he wouldn't give you the night off. If that's the case there's a whole lot of twisted happening there, man. I mean was engaged…"

Nick dropped onto the bench behind him and tugged off his dress shoes. "Yeah to a psycho-bitch from hell. And I want a piece of that." Gathering the shoes he dropped them into the bottom of his locker and pulled out his work boots. "Cath's off. Apparently, Sam grabbed Lily and Lindsay and took them out of town somewhere for a few days. Said it wouldn't be safe here especially with all the people coming and going at his hotels. I think she said something about the Bahamas, so she's going to go over and keep Sara company for the evening, and Gris should be here soon."

Warrick nodded silently and jammed his gun into his holster. "So what aren't you telling me, bro?" He leaned against the locker and crossed his arms. He knew Nick better than anyone, there was something going on behind the scenes and it was killing his friend. "How come I didn't know anything about this relationship?"

"Sara wanted to keep it a secret." Nick didn't like lying to a man he thought of as a brother, but he didn't feel he had any choice.

"Really?" Warrick studied his friend. "You're full of shit. I asked a whole lotta questions there just now and you danced over everyone of 'em." He studied the Texan, concern resting in his green eyes. "You get Sara pregnant during a relationship I know squat about. You two lose the baby, and you're coming into work early and leaving our boss at the condo with her?"

Nick sighed and rubbed his fingers through the short bristles of his closely cropped hair. "I needed to stop by the drugstore on the way in." He indicated the open bottle beside him.

Warrick tried a different tactic. "Let's see. Sara was what? A month or so along?"

Nick chugged another mouthful of the Pepto and ground out a mucky. "Yeah."

"So you screwed some other chick after sleeping with her? You were in a relationship and you cheated on her?" Warrick hid the smirk trying to creep onto his face.

"What? NO…" The dark eyed Texan looked almost horrified. "I would never do that to her."

Warrick had him at this and he knew it. Plopping onto the bench beside his friend he nudged him. "Me, you, Tara and Yvonne. The two stewardesses… Three weeks ago – third floor suite 316 at the Bellagio."

All the color drained from Nick's face.

"Out with it, man…Sara's kid was no more yours than it was mine. What I don't get is how you got tied up in this mess."

* * *

"Clothes..." Catherine waved a shopping bag at her friend and then dropped it onto the couch. "I grabbed her some fresh underwear and track clothes, and I picked up the spare set she has at work. They'll do for now."

"Thanks. I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

"So how's she doing?" The blonde woman wandered the large room, her eyes taking in the modern loft and its exceptional view of the lights of the city. The man who owned it clearly had money and taste. It wasn't an overly dressed apartment; in fact it was quite sparse in terms of furniture. But the soft plush couches, dark chocolate walls, and rich wood bookshelves made the entire place feel cozy.

"She's emotionally rung out and sleeping."

Grissom looked the same to Catherine's own weary eyes and she said as much. "Why don't you go home and get some sleep tonight? I took a look at the stuff that was on the board before I came over here, and there's nothing there that can't be flipped to days."

The night supervisor shook his head. "I need to go in. We need to catch Alicia…" He corrected himself and shook his head at his mistake. "Marla."

"We will. Jim's got the state patrol out looking for her, and the local police are on high alert. If she's still in Nevada we'll catch her." The blond woman pried her eyes away from the inky view outside the window and studied her friend a moment.

"I need to be there when and if they do." Grissom said darkly.

"I'm sure he'll call."

"Nick's been up the same amount of time, and he went in." There was coffee he'd brewed earlier still sitting in the pot so he shuffled into the kitchen, poured himself a cup and chugged it. "I caused this mess. I need to be there to help clean it up."

"Nick and Sara aren't like that, you know. They don't blame you." She crossed her arms over her chest and bent in to sniff the remaining coffee still sitting in the pot. It practically made her arm hair stand on end so she dumped it out and set about making a fresh pot. "Nick and Sara both know that things like this happen. A criminal mind is like a roll of the dice, Gil. You never know what you're going to get, or what they're capable of. It's that uncontrollable and unpredictable factor that keeps us and Doc Robbins in business. There was no way you could have prevented this."

"Right..." Doing his best to hide the tears gathering in his eyes, he chugged another mouthful of roof tar and slammed the cup back down on the thick granite counter top. "My fiancé…" He practically choked on the word. "…took the life of an innocent…" He stopped. For years, when faced with questions about the morality of abortion, or the unfortunate circumstances behind miscarriage, he'd always sought comfort in science. It was hard to feel loss, if it really wasn't considered a life form, but all of the scientific posturing in the world wouldn't change the pain he was feeling. Something special was gone; something that contained a mixture of his and Sara's DNA, and that would have combined to make _their_ little boy or girl. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Something that had been very much alive… "…an innocent child." He turned his sorry eyes to Catherine and squeezed off the pain in his chest. "Well I blame myself for this."

"Yeah… "A search for coffee turned up a relatively cheap brand, but Catherine loaded a filter into the machine and poured in a liberal amount, anyway. "Me too..." She intoned softly, as she flipped the switch to brew.

"You didn't do anything wrong." Blue eyes met blue as he grabbed a left over dinner roll from supper, and broke off a small piece. He'd tried the pizza they'd ordered, but it hadn't sat well from the outset so he'd stopped after one small piece.

"Well I certainly have more reason to feel guilty than you do. I suspected she was behind this stuff from the outset, but I was too stubborn to tell you."

Grissom nodded. "I understand why you did it, though." He grimaced.

"Can I ask you something?" Catherine moved around in front of the breakfast bar and climbed up on a stool.

Cringing inwardly the entomologist chugged another mouthful and nodded once again in her direction. He probably owed her at least that much after everything Alicia had done to her.

"Are you okay with this?"

"With what?" Both exhausted and afraid of what his friend was asking he danced around the question in an attempt to put off the inevitable as long as possible.

It was short lived.

"I've known for a long time that there was something between you and Sara. I didn't know if it was lust or infatuation or what, but I would see it poke its head out occasionally." She shrugged. "Now she's with Nick. He's young, attractive, stable…They were having a baby together..."

"Unlike me." He cut her off.

"No. That's not what I'm saying at all." She rolled her eyes. "Gil, you're a very attractive man, and I don't think I've ever me anyone more stable than you. As for age…" She thought a moment. "You're older but I've always considered age as a state of mind. So I wasn't saying that either. It's just that I figure it's got to be a little hard to see them together. I mean there has to be some regret over what might have been - at the very least."

Grissom chugged the last mouthful of coffee in his cup and swallowed the truth he was about to impart on Catherine. Instead, he tossed a dark look in her direction. "I have regrets, and the biggest one right now is the fact that Sara lost her baby and that she's been hurt by me and my actions. At this point nothing else matters." He turned and headed for the bedroom. "I'm going to see if she's awake, so I can say goodbye."

With that he was gone, leaving the blonde woman to contemplate his words.

* * *

She smelled him first. He had a way of filling the room, and his own particular brand of Grissom scent was a dead give away that he was standing somewhere near the side of the bed.

She felt the mattress dip behind her, and turned slightly towards him her body moving instinctively before she even had a chance to think.

"You're awake." His smile was soft almost fearful and it reminded her of those first few tenuous days after they'd taken the initial steps towards a relationship. He would look at her that way at times, a smile perched on his lips, yet almost uncertain. She'd initially thought that it was because was still unsure of pursuing a relationship with her, but after an evening of painful discussion, they'd both realized that their fears were the same. The ambivalence had nothing to do with their own commitment, but everything to do with fear that the other would walk away after they'd fully bared their hearts.

"I slept a little."

He reached for her hand, noting how for the first time in months things felt right in his world. The loss of their child was going to take some major getting over and in some way he knew it would stay with them both forever, but they still had each other which was far more than the bleakness they'd both been facing a mere 48 hours before. "I'm going to go in." He paused, his fingers moving gently and rhythmically over the back of her hand. "I don't want to leave you, but we need to catch her and see that she's locked for good this time."

Sara nodded silently. She'd had her moments of anger but had never thought herself capable of truly hating someone enough to want to kill them. That had changed. If she had a gun and was allowed to be a part of the pursuit she wasn't sure what she would have done. Her own home life aside, she realized that Catherine had been right; a mother protects her young with a fierceness she had never believed possible.

"Cath's here." He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed the bruise marring it. The ER nurse had inserted the catheter so quickly it had caused a deep purple reminder of the most recent trauma she'd endured.

"Okay." She sat up, resting carefully against the soft fabric of the headboard.

"Are you going to be alright while I'm gone?" Blue eyes searched Sara's red rimmed ones but all Grissom could see in them was the same sadness he was feeling.

"Yeah…" She attempted a small smile but it came out looking pained.

"We'll get through this." He assured her his free hand chasing an errant tear down her cheek.

"I'm not sure if we're meant to." She looked lost for a moment, he eyes falling to their entwined fingers.

"We're never meant to forget, that's why God gave us memory. But we are meant to heal, that's why God gave us love." He drew her into a light embrace. "We'll do it together, okay?"

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Gil."

He backed away and stared at her darkly. "This is one promise I very much intend to keep."

"What about Alicia… uh… Marla's child? Your child?" On the way to the condo Nick and Grissom had updated her on the latest information. It wasn't a surprise to discover that the two women were one and the same, it was just news that had come too late to be helpful. She swallowed down the bile sitting in her throat. It hurt even to think that the woman was carrying Grissom's baby, and despite the fact that Sara was never the overly jealous type; this particular circumstance made her positively green. And she hated herself for it.

Grissom laughed, it sounded almost sarcastic. "Nick asked me the same thing." He shook his head. "I honestly don't know if she was pregnant, or is pregnant. I still don't remember that night. I've never seen any tangible proof that we had sex, that she's even carrying a baby…my baby." His voice jumped almost angrily. "Amnio was out of the question. I didn't get to go to the ultrasound appointment. The picture from it could have come from anywhere. She threatened to abort it so many times I wouldn't be surprised if she already had." He shrugged at the absurdity of it all, his fingers furiously scratching across his beard.

"That still doesn't answer my question."

He closed his eyes. "If she is pregnant and if it is my child…" He stopped unable to follow bring the train of thought to its conclusion - let alone vocalize it.

The silence hung between them like a festering dead body. "I know you would never turn your back on your own flesh and blood and as I said before this whole mess started, I would never ask you to do that. I simply couldn't in good conscience..." She steeled herself for what she was about to say next. "Gil, when we catch her, she'll go back to the institute, have the baby and you will take it. And as much as I would want to be that extraordinary type of person who has the insight to look beyond the circumstance and be accepting. I don't know if I could help you raise _her_ child. I might be able to love the child because it was part of you but I'm afraid that some part of me would always blame or resent it because of what his or her mother took from us. And that's no life for a child. That would be so damaging. I…" She swiped crossly at the tears gathering in her eyes. "I know it's not right. I know I should be bigger than that, but it's the way I feel, and I don't think it will change." She sunk back into the pillows and turned away from him. "So please don't make promises you can't keep."

He reached out and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. He fully understood what she was going through and the ache residing in his chest was a testament to the loss he was too was feeling. He hated Marla for what she had done. But also knew that it was Sara's pain that was talking at the moment, and that when push came to shove she really was the extraordinarily special person she didn't think she could be. "I love you. I won't ask anything from you that you can't give, but do me a favor and give me, us… some time." He leaned in and kissed her then. A moment later he'd exited the room and the condo, leaving a softly sobbing woman behind.

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer:** chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for your patience. It may take me a little longer to get these chapters out, but I very much intend to finish this story. Things have been very busy here, with no sign of letting up – hence the delays in the chapters. Thank you all so much for your kind words, and reviews. They do prompt me to write – though it seems like I am not doing it at a terribly fast pace. Also forgive me as usual for the fact that there may be errors here and the fact that this is unbeta'd.

HUGS to you all.

**Chapter 27**

Normal was a word that ceased to exist in Sara's vocabulary around about the same time her life fell apart.

She gazed at the unfamiliar shape of her fourth empty apartment and moved to the window while the rental agent droned on in the background.

"It's close to work. Has great security. And it's a terrific neighborhood." Catherine commented, joining her at the window. "It's a nice space." There was a modicum of exhaustion in her voice, as she inspected the immediate street down below and waited while the younger woman pondered the lights in the distance. The building was fairly small, immaculately clean, and by Vegas standards - relatively new. Only 6 floors high and perched on a small hill, it offered an amazing view of the strip. "What do you think?"

I had been two mind numbing days, of painkillers and rotating friends. Nick and Grissom had both been at the condo a few times but just to freshen up, grab some food, say hi and then disappear once again into the abyss that had become the lab. Sara wished she could do the same. "I think I made a mistake."

Catherine cast a confused glance her way.

"Maybe it's too early for this. I don't know." She pursed her lips in an attempt to hold back the tears that had been forming in her eyes. "I wanted to get out of the house." She amended. "I wanted to get away from the condo, back into something that's mine." She paused and fought back the tremor in her voice. "I just realized that there really is nothing _"mine" _left. She managed to take away everything."

Catherine placed her hand on the trembling woman's shoulder and turned to the agent who appeared to be busying himself in the kitchen. "Excuse me, Mr… uh… Leventhal, can we have a few minutes of privacy?"

"Sure…" The slick and profoundly greasy looking guy gave a slight tug on his oversized chinos and headed for the door. "You know where the rental office is, how's about I meet you there?"

The blonde woman nodded silently and watched as he slipped out of the empty space. "You know I could probably bury you in platitudes, but I'm going to spare you." She tossed a wry grin at the woman standing next to her. She'd never seen the brunette more vulnerable, or lost. "It's going to hurt Sara. For a long time, I know because I've been there."

This caught the young CSI's attention and she turned her watery eyes to the older woman and waited.

"When I was in high school." Catherine swallowed the lump in her own throat and went on. "I got involved with this man. It was all flowers and sunshine to me because I was young and didn't get it." She paused the feeling of that time in her life rushing back to greet her head on. "He was married. He was a teacher, and God he was hot." She watched as someone pulled into a lighted parking spot in front of the building and then climbed out. "I was stupid. I thought he loved me. I found out differently, when I missed my period."

Sara studied the woman in amazement. "A teacher? Your teacher? You couldn't have been more than what 16? 17? That's really young."

"Barely 16…" Catherine corrected. "He was my science teacher, and let me tell you I was really pregnant by the time I figured it out. I'd been pretty irregular during that time, but at some point panic set in and that sent me off to the free clinic." She dug on stiletto clad toe into the floor boards and pretended to be wiping away a spot with it. "I was freaked. I knew my mom would kill me if she found out. I told him. He offered to pay for an abortion and set it up for me."

The young CSI turned her dark eyes upon her friend. "Did you…?"

Catherine shook her head adamantly. "No." She blinked back her own tears. "I would be lying if I said that I wanted the baby; just the opposite, in fact. I was too young. I knew I could never raise a child on my own. The father was adamantly opposed to its birth and my mom… well… as I said before, she would have killed me and, if by some miracle of fate I had survived telling her, she certainly never would have supported my keeping it."

"Sounds like you'd already decided to abort it…" It was a statement as opposed to a question.

"Yeah… pretty much. But despite all of the negatives involved, I was still torn. I mean, for me the child was conceived out of love – well as much love as a teenager in an illicit relationship could muster." She sighed. "I wanted to find some way of letting it survive. I seriously considered adoption, but I knew that that would just compound my problems. Then I'd have to come clean with my mother. I would be totally ridiculed at school. His family would be dragged into the whole thing. He would lose his job, go to jail, and ultimately hate me, and I would be alone, and have to carry around a child for nine months and then never see it again. The mind of fifteen year old…" She said wryly.

Sara's words were soft. "What happened?"

"I had just made an appointment - and at the time there was still a real stigma surrounding abortion – it had only been legal for a few years here in Nevada. He said he'd pay but wouldn't come with me. It was three days away, when I started cramping and bleeding and that was it. I was terrified. I hid it from my mother, went to the free clinic the next day, and sure enough, when the bloodwork came back, they told me I'd lost it."

The two women stared out the window wordlessly for a few moments.

"I know it's different. You're not some pubescent teenager, caught up in a dirty affair with a man who doesn't love you. You have Nick, and I know you wanted your baby, but regardless of the circumstance, something like that. That kind of a loss, it stays with you for a long time. For me a big part of it was the guilt. I felt like by not wanting it, by making that call, I had actually killed it." She grimaced. "Never mind the fact that I was going to kill it a few days later, anyway…" She shrugged. "Sometimes you simply can't rationalize what you're feeling. And guilt… it's a bitch."

"Tell me about it." Sara almost smiled at that. "I keep thinking, I could have stopped her."

Catherine shook her head. "Sara, you couldn't have. She's crazy, and the sad thing is no one knew… I mean, I suspected but that a quarter would only have gotten me a bubblegum."

"At first, I wasn't sure I wanted to keep it." Sara leaned her head up against the cool the window and stared out into the light infused blackness of the city in the distance.

"Initial shock… been there. Unless you're happily married and planning family, the first reaction to hearing the rabbit died is denial, then comes the fear and uncertainty. I have never met an unmarried woman, who was overjoyed at being pregnant – unless she planned it that way." Catherine did her best to ease the younger woman's guilt. "Hell I was married to Eddie, and I still wasn't sure I wanted a kid. At the time I was trying to get myself off the coke, off the stage, and build a life for us. A kid would just add more pressure."

"But you had Lindsay…"

"I did. All I had to do, was think back to that first baby, and realize what a gift it was to be given a second chance." She smiled. "Mind you, every time she talks back I rethink the gift metaphor."

Sara actually laughed at that.

"It'll happen again, when you're ready Sara."

The young CSI nodded. "Thanks."

"So." The blond woman indicated the room they were standing in. "You want me to tell him no and then we can get the hell out of here?"

"Tell him maybe." The slim brunette wandered the space and then cast a look into the large bedroom off the living room. "Tell him to give me a day or two."

"You want to talk it over with Nick?"

It was a natural assumption and Sara's guilt over her friend's misconception was beginning to eat at her. "No, uh... about that…We need to talk"

Catherine waved her away. "I know, probably too soon to think about sharing a place."

Sara shook her head. "No, I mean you and I, _we_ need to talk, Cath."

"Okay, sure…" The older woman responded almost distractedly. Casting a glance at her watch she was astounded that it was nearly 9:30 – they'd spent well over an hour at this particular place. "But it'll have to wait until tomorrow, is that okay? Is it really important?"

"No." Sara shook her head animatedly, almost relieved. "It's not important. It can wait."

"Thanks. I need to go in early and that means we have to leave now. The Busker case is going to court tomorrow, and someone in holding misplaced a box of key evidence. I'm probably going to spend my night searching for it. I asked Ecklie to have someone from days try to track it down, but you know as well as I do that most of those guys couldn't find their own assholes even with a homing beacon nailed to it."

The brunette nodded and followed the older woman out of the apartment. At the mention of the case Sara's mind switched into CSI mode, and with that the need to come clean with Catherine was almost immediately forgotten. "What do the evidence logs say…?" Her voice bounced around the small hallway as the door closed behind them.

* * *

"Can you say, this is fucked up?" Greg stared hard at his friend and then bent over the young woman laying face down in the mud caked gulley. She hadn't been dead for long and clearly wasn't dressed to be hanging out on the outskirts of old Vegas. The thin lingerie-like dress she was wearing was pink, and despite the fact that it was mottled with crimson spatter, it looked more like a clubbing outfit that something you'd wear hiking along the desert roadside.

"And that's the worst I've seen in a while." David shook his head and pointed to small hand axe sticking out of the back of the dead girl's head. "Sorry death for another tourist."

"How do you know she's not a local?" Greg eyed the young coroner's assistant.

"Can I have your ultraviolet?" Dave held his hand out and waited for the young CSI to comply. When he did, he waved the small light over the back of the victim's hand. A small Chinese symbol lit up. "It's from an off strip hotel… The Yen, I think. They use this to mark their guests, so they can get into the Mirage to use some of the facilities for free. I saw it when you were waving the light earlier."

"Good call, Super Dave." Greg looked almost impressed.

The sound of crunching gravel drowned out the rest of the conversation, and the two men turned to see Warrick climb out of the Denali's cab

"Hey…Gris said you were out here all by your lonesome." He called as he grabbed his kit from the passenger's seat and headed over to the body. "What do we have?"

"Female, mid twenties to thirties, Dave thinks she might have been a guest at the Yen."

Greg reported as he moved around the body snapping pictures.

"You bucking for a position as a CSI, now Dave?"

David shrugged and then crouched. "Permission to secure the weapon?"

"Hand axe. Haven't seen one of them in a long while." Warrick commented, and nodded at the assistant coroner. "You got everything you need in terms of pictures, right?" He queried his partner.

"Yup. Just finishing up down here." The former lab rat replied, and snapped a final photo of the victim's bare feet. "Her shoes are missing."

The two men gave the area a cursory scan but there was nothing nearby that would have passed for footwear.

"She had to have been driven out here and dumped. Tourists sometimes stagger out of town, but this is a little too far out, and her feet aren't all that cut up. There are a few scrapes, like maybe she was trying to run but nothing to indicate that she walked out here in her bare feet." Warrick rubbed thoughtfully at the stubble on his chin.

"We're what, maybe 5 miles out?" Greg queried.

"Someone could have found her and maybe stolen her shoes." David offered all the while struggling to pull the axe out of the young woman's skull. It was turning out to be a bit of a wrestle.

"Why would anyone do that?" Greg eyed the other man like he'd grown an extra eye.

"My wife says women will kill for a pair of nice Manolos…" Dave huffed yanking on the weapon a little harder.

"Does she have an alibi for earlier this evening?" Greg quipped and set his camera aside.

"Huh…" Dave gave the axe a final tug and landed soundly on his butt, as he lost his balance.

"Careful with that." Warrick warned. "It's evidence." He held out a large plastic bindle and waited as the assistant coroner got up and gingerly placed it inside. Then he watched silently as David turned the body over onto the plastic body bag.

"Annie and I had our weekly dinner with her parents tonight. We were there from 3:30 until I got this call an hour ago." David checked the thermometer he'd plunged into the young woman's liver and announced unceremoniously. "She's been dead maybe three hours. That counts us out as suspects." He grinned.

Warrick guffawed lightly. "I guess so. Sounds like you're a little whipped there Super Dave."

The young coroner shrugged and was about to comment back when Greg leaned over and inspected the young woman's closed fist. "Hey, check this out guys." Carefully he pried the victim's hand open and extracted a clump of red hair.

* * *

It both galled her and horrified her that she had been forced to find an entirely new building to live in. Not that the charred remains of her former abode would be habitable any time in the near future, anyway, but it had been home since she'd moved to Vegas.

"So how are you coping with all this?" Dr. Ranier tapped her pen lightly on the empty pad in front of her and then stared at the young woman casually slouched in the wing chair on the opposite side of her desk.

The grimace on Sara's face had been put there by the memory of what used to be home, and she dropped her eyes to the plush brown carpet at her feet, at the same time doing her best to sort through her feelings and come up with an honest answer.

Thelma Ranier waited patiently, her eyes never leaving the slender brunette. A rather hefty lady in her mid fifties, with short untamed graying hair and a round cheeked countenance she looked every bit like a pudgy female Einstein. Typical stuffy professor type clothes completed the picture, making her seem almost dowdy and soft. In contrast, a PhD in psychiatry, along with the slew of other letters that trailed behind her name left no question as to how experienced she was in her field. And her sharp edged demeanor when she spoke, said that she had seen it all in her thirty years of practice. As a PEAP counselor for the LVPD her opinion weighed heavily when it came down to determining whether those people in her care would be allowed to return to work. She'd been the psychiatrist assigned to Sara after her almost DUI, and despite the young CSI's desire to avoid the woman all together, they had – after a few false starts – come to a comfortable place in their doctor-patient relationship.

A tight smile drew across Sara's face. The woman had a habit of asking questions that drudged up _the_ _most_ painful memories and uncomfortable emotions. "I'm coping." Was all that she could come up with, but it was honest. The slim brunette tucked and errant strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged slightly. "I was looking at apartments with a friend yesterday. I'm probably going to sign a lease this week, and after that it's just a matter of getting the insurance settlement and then replacing the things I've lost."

"Some things are irreplaceable…" It was a comment meant to stir emotion, but Sara was too tired to fight it with any real vigor.

"Yes. I know." She pursed her lips and allowed the silence to hang in the room for a moment. "The material things I won't miss all that much. I grew up with very little after my parents died. Mostly it was clothes, a suitcase and a few books."

"But then doesn't that make what you had all that much more precious because you've earned it on your own?" Ranier prompted.

"Maybe, before, but this job, and… losing the baby… things like that teach you what's really important." Sara fiddled with an imaginary string on her new jeans.

"And how are you feeling about that?"

Sara stared at the woman like she was stupid. Despite her anger at the blatant query, a small tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. "I hurt. It hurts. Like someone stuck their hand into my gut and ripped some of the most important pieces out."

"Are we talking physical pain here?" Ranier was unsure.

"No. It's emotional. I feel empty, and I imagine I will for a while."

Ranier nodded softly glad the other woman hadn't slipped back into her usual habit of avoiding uncomfortable emotions and situations. "You're right it will. But your acknowledgement of the circumstances will make it easier. Facing your emotions head on as you seem to be doing will make the process that much faster."

Sara wasn't sure how she felt about the loss of her child being called a process, but she bobbed her head and swiped at another stray tear. "I know."

"And the father?" The doctor had been surprised to hear about the younger woman's pregnancy when the psych evaluation had rolled across her desk. Her immediate response had been to wonder who the father was. The thought that it might be the pretty brunette's boss, had skidded through her mind, especially after seeing his signature at the bottom of the request. But she stopped the speculation in its tracks. It was none of her business, unless the young woman wanted to talk about it.

"He's very supportive, and upset, too." Sara had silently cursed Grissom when he'd told her about the appointment, and subsequent evaluation the night before. But in retrospect, just saying the words and acknowledging her pain did seem to ease the tension in her heart.

"The fact that it wasn't a natural loss has to make it worse." Ranier nudged the younger woman verbally.

"I'm pissed off, and if I go back to work I will stay away from the case entirely." Sara said pointedly.

"Because?"

"Because I don't know what I would do to the woman who caused this, if I were to get her alone." The young CSI grimaced at the honesty of her words, knowing that what she'd just said could very well cause her to be off duty for a while longer.

"Your anger scares you…" It was leveled a statement; not a question, but Sara answered it anyway.

"I have never hated someone enough to want to kill them until now. _That_ scares me." Her dark eyes bore holes into the doctor.

"Good." She picked up the pad, shoved it aside and dragged the evaluation form across the desk. With a flick of her pen she'd signed her name and passed Sara a copy. "You can go back to work when you feel physically ready." She announced.

The surprise on Sara's face prompted her to explain. "Your fear is healthy. It tells me that despite how you feel about the person who caused this; your morality is still far stronger than your anger. You're right, that this is a case that you shouldn't be working, but I am sure even your boss knows that. Therefore I see no reason why you can't return to active duty."

"Thanks." Sara nodded and offered the woman a small smile before quickly snatching the paper from her hands and leaving the room.

* * *

"Hey…" Nick was the first to see her standing in the doorway of the AV room. He immediately scooped her into his arms without thought to the man who was standing beside him. Delivering a quick kiss on her cheek, it warmed him when she returned his embrace just as eagerly.

"How'd it go?" Grissom stared enviously at the twosome. The younger man had managed to do what he himself had wanted, but couldn't in the confines of the lab.

"Good." Sara tossed an awkward smile at the two men, as she let go of her friend and tugged the folded paper from her pocket. "I'm all clear to return to duty tonight."

The entomologist's jaw literally dropped as he accepted the form.

A glance passed between the two men then and it brought with it a flash of anger from the young woman.

"Look." Sara placed her hands on her hips in a way that said she was in full battle mode. "Ranier said I could come back when I feel physically ready. I feel ready now. I've been stuck in the condo for two days – I feel like I'm hiding from my life. I will stay as far away from the case as you want me to, but you need me here." She reasoned. "And unless Vegas has taken a break from its usual crime spree, then we're probably still up to our neck in bodies, and the pile is only going to get bigger with one less person on the job."

When the two men didn't say anything Sara continued. "I'm going to go crazy if you make me stay home. You guys come and go and no one tells me anything. I want to know what's going on even if I can't be a part of the actual investigation. Being here makes me feel like I am doing something."

Grissom passed a look in Nick's direction and the other man simply nodded. "Let's go to my office."

Nudging Sara out of the lab, he gripped her elbow and escorted her along the corridor.

Even with a signed report in hand she knew the final decision was up to her boss, as to whether she would be allowed to return to work, and the look on his face told her he wasn't too keen on the idea. As he closed the door behind them and then shut the blinds, she got the feeling they were heading for an all out battle of wills, a situation which she was sure he didn't want to share with the rest of the lab. That's why, when he turned around and pinned her up against door to his office, his mouth eagerly seeking hers, it was all she could do but to fall into his arms.

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

AN : Forgive me for taking so long to post this. I have not forgotten it. I have just been unbelievably busy. So much so that this has been sitting in an almost complete state on my computer for over a month. I simply didn't have time to finish it. It should move quickly from here on in though, as I now have a little time on my hands. Forgive any errors this is unbeta'd. Thank you ALL for you reviews, and comments. Believe it or not they keep me motivated. Sorry if you get a second notification for this - I went back in and made a few corrections. I was in a hurry when I posted and that's what you get. Thanks for all of your reviews!

Chapter 28

A short rap on the door startled the twosome and forced them to break apart. Sara tried to pull away but found herself held in place by two strong hands. "I missed you…" He planted another quick kiss on her mouth. "I missed this…" His words were throaty and choked with unspoken sentiment.

Sara's own emotions were reeling, all the pain and hurt she'd bottled up over the last month or so manifested itself in one simple tear. She swiped at it; pissed as all get out that she was crying yet again. It had to be related to the hormonal mess her body suffering through. That was the only explanation.

The knock was insistent but Grissom didn't want to rush the situation. His fingers trailed a gentle path along her cheek and he smiled softly at her. "Do you need a minute?"

She shook her head, so he let her go and waited until she took a seat in one of his guest chairs.

"What?" He opened the door and tempered the roughness in his voice.

A worried looking Greg stared back at him. "Our ditch girl…" The former lab rat stepped into the room and cast a concerned look in Sara's direction. "She was registered at the Yen. Has been in town for two days on her own. Her name is Tammy Baker from Oregon. Parents have been notified they're flying in tomorrow morning."

"Okay." Grissom moved back behind the desk as the younger man moved further into the room.

It was a sudden movement and caught the slim brunette completely off guard, but within seconds she found herself wrapped in the arms of Greg Sanders. "I'm glad you're back." He intoned softly and then released her before he pulled her completely off the chair.

"Me too." She smiled timidly at him and readjusted her fitted black top before relaxing back into her seat.

Grissom cleared his throat and his eyebrows crept up his forehead. "The case?"

"Oh yeah…" Greg flicked his eyes towards Sara uncertain if he should say anything in front of her, but Grissom motioned for him to continue. "Doc has her now, says the preliminary findings indicate that the blow to the back of the head with the hand axe was what killed her."

"Warrick said that it looked pretty clear cut."

Greg nodded. "But did he tell you about the hair we found clutched in her hand?"

Grissom shook his head.

"Red hair. Pulled out by the root. Mia has it now."

A grimace passed over both Grissom and Sara's faces, and he was on his feet and pacing in an instant. "Check to see if Tammy Baker rented a car."

"Archie's on it." Greg shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "The clerk at the hotel said she thought she had one, but we're trying to confirm it now."

"You think she killed her for her car?" Sara looked almost horrified, though surprise was something that didn't come, she knew full well it was highly likely.

"You are to stay away from this case entirely." Grissom said sternly.

"I told you I would remain hands off, but I want to know what's going on." She crossed her arms and her full lips disappeared into a grim line. "I deserve at least that much."

Greg's eyes shifted between Grissom and Sara, the tension was almost palpable in the room. "I'm going to go and process Ms. Baker's clothes."

The nightshift supervisor waited for the young man to leave and then returned his attention to the woman sporting the angry frown. "Look…" He moved around the desk and dropped in front of her so they were eye level then he took her hands in his; the warmth of his touch chasing away the cold pervading her skin. "I'm sticking to my guns on this one." He massaged some warmth into her flesh, and simply reveled in the fact that he could touch her again. "And before you get any strange ideas, this has nothing to do with Alicia. I could care less whether I ever see her again or not. This has everything to do with you, and your safety. She's dangerous and if she sticks around it will be for one thing only." He didn't follow his statement up with an explanation, he didn't have to.

"Maybe she just skipped town." Sara offered. It wasn't what she sought, though, in fact she was hoping for just the opposite. She wanted the woman caught, tried, and locked up somewhere for the rest of her natural life. Nevada was a death penalty state, but there was no way someone already proven to be mentally ill, would ever get the needle. But one could always dream, she thought.

"It's possible, but is it likely?" Grissom shook his head. "OCD is one of her many diagnosis."

Sara shook her head silently. "I doubt it."

"If I could wrap you in bubble wrap and keep you locked away until this is all over, I would."

Sara's shifted her eyes away from his face, trying to hide the hurt in her eyes.

"I know that's not rational or reasonable, but its how I feel." He gripped her hands more tightly, almost as though he were afraid to let go.

Sara seemed to absorb this for a moment, before offering him a slight smile. She didn't want to let his words to affect her. With the future between them being as uncertain as it was, allowing herself to fall back into a relationship with him before things were truly resolved would only lead to more heartache. "I am going to sign a lease at one of the apartment buildings I went to look at with Catherine yesterday."

A look of alarm drifted across Grissom's face. "Can you wait a little longer?" His eyes were soft and pleading and they were winning the battle with her weakened determination.

She looked away again. "I need a place of my own. Something I can call my home. I feel out of sorts, and lost right now Gil."

"I had hoped…" He let the words hang for a moment before continuing. "I had hoped you would move in with me. When this is all over."

It wasn't totally unexpected. Despite the conversation they'd had about the possibility of his impending fatherhood and Alicia's future, he'd still hinted at cohabitation when she'd mentioned apartment hunting with Catherine the day before. "I can't plan on something that may not happen."

"Sara…"

"No." She cut him off. "Please. I need to get a place. After everything that's happened. I can't see myself living at your place." A flash of pain ran across her former lover's face so she sighed. "That didn't come out right." She looked down and their tangled fingers. "It doesn't mean that I don't want to be with you, once everything is resolved. It's the space itself - I just… It feels marred. And I don't feel right asking you to leave the town house you've lived in for so many years. It's your home. This is for the best."

Relief flooded Grissom, and he smiled. "Home to me isn't the roof I live under. I didn't know what home really was until I met you." He pulled her hand up to his lips and caressed it with his mouth. "Please wait. Let's tackle one thing at a time. Don't sign any lease. We'll sort this mess out, and then we can look for a place together."

Sara studied him momentarily, wishing for all the world that they might have a happy ending. Then she nodded reluctantly. "I'll wait until this is over, but I can't make any promises."

He leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "A little time, that's all I'm asking for."

Any further conversation was interrupted by another knock on the door.

"This place is like McCarran at peak tourist season…" Grissom muttered under his breath and then he let out a much louder and more terse. "Come in." before backing away from Sara and returned to his normal place behind his desk.

"Sorry Boss." Nick stuck his head in the door. "We just got the info on the rental. The vic picked up a red mustang convertible from Budget. Brass has an APB out on it as we speak, but there's a good chance she's long gone. The California border's only a few hours away. She could be out of state by now."

"We were just discussing that and I doubt it." He replied grimly.

Nick bobbed his head grimly and moved further into the office a white sheet clasped in his hand. "We have another one. Woman attacked on her way out of the hospital. Details are sketchy. Vartan drew it."

"Is the woman dead?" Grissom glanced at the relative details on the paper.

"Yeah, and the husband is in surgery. He may not survive." Nick ran a nervous hand through his bristled hair. "Warrick and Greg are working the evidence from the Baker case, so I'm stuck. It's a waiting game." He was referring to the hunt for Alicia. "It's in Brass' hands now." Grissom seemed lost in his own thoughts for the moment so the Nick turned to the woman in the chair.

Sara smiled at Nick. It was an invitation for the younger man. "How you holding up, Buttercup?"

The attractive Texan could actually feel the older man bristle, but he wasn't about to change his feelings or his behavior to accommodate him.

"It's all good." She nodded and scratched her fingers excitedly along the black denim of her pants. It was a restless move that spoke of barely contained energy.

His gaze shifted to Grissom questioningly. "So you're back at work?"

The scowl on the nightshift supervisor's face said it all.

"I am." Sara kept her face almost impassive but there was a note of triumph in her voice.

"Okay, Nicky this one's yours, until we get any news on…" His words trailed off. He knew he was supposed to be unemotional yet he couldn't manage it. An intense anger bobbed to the surface every time he even thought of the woman, and he frowned. "…her."

Nick nodded knowingly and his eyes dropping to Sara. "One possibly, two vics, and a mountain of eyewitnesses to sort through… Can I have Sara?"

Grissom had wanted to keep his former lover close at hand so he could maintain a close watch on her, and at the sight of Dr. Ranier's report he'd started forming plans that would bury her in the lab for a few days. But the criminals in Vegas seemed determined to pre-empt this, and the insinuation in the younger man's seemingly innocent question dug into his heart making his decision all that much more difficult. Thick fingers rubbed at tired eyes – there really was no way around it without sparking some major ire from the young woman. "You can have her… for the case." He added almost possessively.

Sara held her hand up for a high five and winked at Nick as he slapped her one.

Grissom's scowl grew even further.

"My kit's in my car." Sara offered and made for the door.

"We can grab it on the way out."

"Nick…" Grissom stopped the younger man as he was halfway through the door.

He turned "Yeah boss?"

Grissom waited until Sara had disappeared around the corner of his office. "Do not let her out of your sight."

"I had no intention of it." He replied and ran to catch up with his partner, leaving an unhappy and irritated nightshift supervisor in his wake.

* * *

"I'm goin' for burgers you want some?" Warrick stuck his head into the drying room and waited as Greg collected an errant strand of red hair off of the Tammy Baker's clothes.

"Yeah. The works with extra pickles and onions." The former lab rat mumbled and squinted. "There's some fluid here. Not blood. It looks almost as though something was spilled on her."

Warrick stepped in and eyed the dry and hardened area the young man was pointing to. Then he leaned in and sniffed it. "Odorless…colorless…Can't be semen, location's all wrong." The stain was up near the left shoulder blade.

"Maybe a drink… Vodka?" Greg offered.

"Well she was at a bar before she was taken. Maybe she was bumped from behind and someone else's drink was spilled on her." They'd traced her final steps back to a small Italian eatery beside the MGM. Apparently, she'd spent the better part of the evening sitting at the bar; nursing a few drinks and shooing away drunken would be suitors.

"Why semen? I thought Alicia looked good for this." Greg queried as he cut out a small swatch of the material and dropped it into a jar.

"Doc's report came back. The vic had had sex prior to her death. No DNA, but abrasions indicating aggressive activity."

"So she was raped?" The young man looked mystified.

"He couldn't be certain. He said maybe raped with an object, because of the lack of excessive trauma, either that or just rough sex." The former gambler explained.

"Well that's just great…"

"Look, for what its worth I think we're right and that bitch is caught up in this in a big way." Warrick shrugged. "But it's another theory of the crime; and we have to keep an open mind."

The younger man rolled his eyes.

"It could be irrelevant but get it to trace, anyway." Warrick patted his partner on the back and turned to leave. "I'm gonna go get those burgers." Stepping out into the hallway, he was almost run flat by a dark haired CSI. He smiled widely. "Hey girl… You're back."

"Yup." She grinned, her eyes trailing a path between Warrick and the tall Texan who had barely managed to avoid colliding with her. A silent look passed between the two men and then she felt herself tugged into a powerful embrace.

"That's good to hear. How you feelin'?" He let her go and then shoved his hands into his pockets almost shyly..

"I'm okay." Her words were tentative and brought a flash of pain to her eyes, but she maintained her smile.

"That's good. You need anything I'm here, okay?"

The hurt in her dark orbs faded to a tenderness and she nodded. "Thanks, I may take you up on that."

"I expect you to…" He threw a thumb back over his shoulder. "Listen, I'm going to get baby CSI here and I some grub. You guys want something?"

"I heard that." Greg's voiced kicked up over the regular sounds of the lab.

A short giggle and a tight guffaw followed the remark, but Nick and Sara both shook their heads. "Nah man, but thanks, we're off to a possible double at Desert Palms." Nick slapped his friend on the back

"Catch up with you later." Sara followed after the Texan.

"I'll hold you to it." The dark skinned CSI's rich voice trailed the young woman down the hall.

* * *

"Judge Chzarny is an ass." Catherine Willows dropped her coffee cup onto Grissom's desk with a resounding thunk and dropped into the chair in front of him.

"I'm sure his wife doesn't think so." Grissom countered, barely looking up from the report his nose was crammed into. The woman easily 20 years his junior had been all over him at the last charity ball.

"Then she's either a saint or after his money." The blonde replied wryly. "And I'm inclined to thing the latter." A nervous ball of energy she swiped her cup up from where she had placed it mere seconds before and took another swig. "Can you tell me why he wanted to personally inspect the seals on each and every piece of evidence I presented?"

"Perhaps because it went missing and there was some concern that it had been tampered with?" Grissom suggested and finally tore his attention away from the file on his desk.

"Oh please. I know how to do my job. If anything had been messed with I would have let him and the DA know." Catherine scoffed and leaned back into the chair.

"Even if it meant letting a murderer go free?" Grissom asked pointedly.

"I admit there are times that the temptation to follow my own moral pendulum is pretty strong, but I have always resisted." The blonde took another gulp of her coffee and waited for Grissom to agree with her. When he didn't she simply rolled her eyes. "Okay, most of the time I resist. But I have never done anything that would be considered illegal, or likely to cost me my job except for this whole thing with Alicia, and as you know there were extenuating circumstances."

At this Grissom eyebrows hiked up his forehead. "Aside from that, which I might add is something we still have to deal with, do I need to remind you that Chzarny was the judge in the original Sam Braun case? The one that got tossed because of the personal DNA match _you_ ran at the lab?"

Catherine let out a resigned sigh at what was coming next - most likely yet another reprimand for that particular incident. Grissom was nothing if not predictable. When he didn't jump into his usual diatribe, she smiled at him concern held in her eyes. "Everything okay?"

He scowled. "If you must know. NO."

"Is it something I've done?"

Grissom let out his own sigh and drew his hand across his beard. "No."

"Good, then lay it on me. I'll see if I can help."

"Sara's back at work." Grissom frowned,

"Oh…" She eyed him curiously for a moment. "I guess sending her to Dr. Ranier didn't pay off."

Grissom shook his head. "I didn't want to do it to her, but I figured if it worked it might help keep her out of the field and safe for a little while longer."

"Where is she now?"

"On a case at Desert Palms with Nick." Grissom frowned.

The blonde woman thoughtfully slipped her hair behind her ear. "Well then she's in good hands."

Another scowl decorated his face. "Yeah."

"But?"

Blue eyes met blue. "Alicia's dangerously unpredictable, she wouldn't even have to get close - one well aimed shot would be all it would take."

Silence floated between them for a moment and Catherine studied the look in her old friend's face. It was one of fear, and it appeared out of place on the man. "Hopefully, she's long gone."

"Everyone's been saying that, but you know as well as I do that that's unlikely. If she is delusional enough to play out her little charade with me as long as she did, then she won't be easily swayed."

Confusion was evident in Catherine's reply. "Charade?"

A heavy sigh escaped Grissom. Removing his glasses, he took another swipe at his tired eyes before he closed the file on his desk and leaned back into his seat. Normally, he wouldn't have shared his personal business with anyone, it was inherently against his nature, but exhaustion had weakened those barriers. "It's a long story."

"I have time. Tonight is my night off, Linds and mom are still out of town, and the court win today has got me hyped."

"If you're hyped we could always use you here."

"I'm not _that_ hyped. I just dropped in to return the evidence to holding and say hi." She smiled tempestuously. "After I hear you out, it's me, the mini bar, a hot bath in the Rampart's celebrity suite's massive tub and then bed."

Grissom grinned; Catherine was easily swayed by the trappings of luxury. It was one of the reasons she had fallen into stripping for a living; High pay, high profile, little effort. Fortunately, for her Lindsay had come along and changed her outlook and choice of profession. "Bed… I remember that… Distantly…"

"Mmmmm… I hear you..." She eyed him silently for a moment. "You know, if you're having trouble sleeping at Nick's friend's place, I'm sure I can get you a place at the Rampart. May not be as big but the beds are comfy."

"I'm having trouble sleeping period. The location doesn't matter."

The blonde woman was about to suggest that it might be more comfortable for Nick and Sara if he weren't there, but then thought the better of it. Something odd was going on between the threesome and as with most things it would come to a head at some point and then she would get answers to a few of the questions that had been nagging her. She grimaced slightly and then twisted it into a pained smile. "Well the offer stands if you change your mind. Sam's hotels are nothing if not luxurious." She reminded him, waited a moment and when he didn't begin his long story she prompted him. "Okay. So explain the "charade" to me."

Grissom scowled at his own big mouth, leaned back into his chair and began a loose history of his relationship with Alicia/Marla.

* * *

"Baby seat in the back…" Nick's flashlight roamed the rear bench of the car bouncing off of the stained and darkened interior of the old ford. Despite his attention to the case he couldn't help but catch Sara's gaze. She was hunched over the body of the young woman on the passenger's side busily snapping photos.

He cursed himself silently. Had he known there was an infant involved he would never have asked to have her work the case with him.

"I'm okay…" She said softly, noting the apprehension on his face. "Do we know if there was a baby in the seat at some point?" She ventured.

"Vartan didn't say anything about one." Nick cast a glance over his shoulder, his eyes coming to settle on the detective. He was talking quietly to the distraught woman who'd found the couple. A small crowd had gathered at the end of the sparsely populated parking lot and they were watching the situation unfold, curiosity etched into their faces.

"Do we know why they were here?" Sara queried, pulling his attention back to her. "Were they visiting someone? If so then maybe the child's at home with a sitter or something." She speculated, at the same time grasping the flashlight from her kit. Flicking it on, the slim brunette trailed it across the female victim's shirt. "I think she was still breast feeding…" Sara commented, the light in her hand coming to rest on the two barely visible stains on the woman's dark brown t-shirt.

"The infant is less than 24 hours old." Vartan's comment startled the twosome as he leaned his head in the driver's side door.

"So there was a child in the car?" Nick asked straightening himself up, and turning to face the man.

"Yeah, sent her back into the hospital with one of the uniforms. Safer for her in there. She's in the neonatal ward. Mom gave birth around this time last night. No complications so they sent her home because she had no insurance and she couldn't afford to stay."

Nick nodded silently.

"Any word on the father?" Sara asked snapping a few more close-ups of the stains on the woman's shirt.

The detective shook his head grimly. "None yet. He's still in surgery."

"Excuse me…" A timid voice resonated from a few feet away

Three sets of eyes fell on a petite Hispanic nurse who was nervously shifting from foot to foot.

"Can we help you?" Nick asked, moving to block the view of the victim.

"Yes… I'm Luisa Mendoza. I took care of Mr. and Mrs. Jonas while they were in the obstetrics ward." She crossed her arms in front of her, her hands working furiously up and down them as if she couldn't get warm.

"I see." Nick flashed a look of concern in Sara's direction but quickly returned his attention to the young nurse. "Well I'm sure one of the officer's will be in to talk to you sometime within the next hour or so." He eyed Vartan who nodded in agreement and moved to help escort the young woman away from the car.

"I just finished talking to an officer Melowsky." She informed them.

"Then if you need to go home that's fine as long as we have your contact information." Nick replied and returned his attention to processing the car. The woman's next words made his blood literally stop running through his veins.

"I wasn't planning on going home. I just wanted to know what happened to the other twin…"


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: Chapter 1

AN: Sorry about the wait! I will make it much shorter for the next chapter. Been a tough few months. Forgive any mistakes no beta as always. Thanks so much for your patience, and feedback you all are fantastic.

**Chapter 29**

"It's likely a kidnapping…" Nick lowered his voice and turned from where Sara was talking animatedly with Detective Vartan. "I'm sorry, but this was a bad idea boss."

"Tell me about it." Gil Grissom tapped his ink blotter stiffly with the tips of his fingers. To someone who didn't know him, it might have been mistaken for nervousness, when it was actually agitation that was fueling this repetitive action. He should have trusted his instincts from the outset. Frowning he picked up a ball point pen, tossed it gruffly across the room and watched dispassionately as it clanked against an empty fish tank, and bounced along the floor. "But I don't have anyone else to send out there and if I come she's gonna know you called me and then we're both in the dog house." The frustration was evident in his voice even as he drew himself to his feet and grabbed his jacket.

"I'm willing to deal with that. Someone has to process the infant and her clothes. I'm only midway through running the car. Doc has come out already and picked up the body. So that leaves Sara with the baby…" Nick's voice dropped another decibel. "…and she won't listen to me."

"Tell her I said to wait. I'll be there in a few minutes."

A low moan issued from the younger man's chest. "Will do." He depressed the off button on his phone and affixed a pained smile to his face before walking over to join his partner.

"Hey…" Sara tentatively returned his smile, as he walked up and nudged her with his shoulder. "Doc has another pick up to do, before he goes back to the morgue. I'll meet him when he gets there. But that gives me time to collect the baby's clothes and process her. Vartan says he followed protocol to the letter. Most of the evidence should still be intact."

"Yeah…" He eyed Sara and then Vartan before slipping his hand around her upper arm and giving her a slight tug. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Sure." She grinned apologetically at the detective and then allowed herself to be guided a little away from him. "What's up?" Sara really didn't need to ask. The look on her friend's face pretty much said it all.

"Look. Gris is on his way over. He wants you to help me process the car. He's gonna take the infant."

"You called him, Nick?" There was a look of betrayal on her face that burned him to his core. "I can still do my job."

"I'm not saying you can't, Buttercup. But you do push yourself too hard sometimes. And this would be one of those times." He gripped her arm and moved her a little further away from Vartan and the eyewitness he'd begun interviewing. "I just don't want to see you hurt anymore. You've been through a lot the past month or so. You just lost your…" He didn't even want to say it, so in abject frustration he flung his arms out to the side but way of explanation.

"The longer the child stays up in that ward, the less likely it is that we will get any untainted evidence. You and I both know that technically, we've already lost some of it in her transportation and having been handled – no matter how careful the officer was. She should never have been moved from the car. I do understand why Vartan did it, but that doesn't negate the fact that she needs to be processed now."

"Look, I agree. She needs to be processed, but that can wait until Grissom gets here. The lab's only a few minutes away. In the mean time we can hurry up and finish the car. There's a better chance of finding something of importance in there." Sara looked like she was going to argue so he gave a gentle tug and led her over to the back door of the car. Reaching for the seatbelt on the passenger side he gave it a tug, but showed no surprise when it didn't move. "I noticed this earlier but it seemed unimportant. Vartan said the baby and the carrier he had brought up had been strapped into the middle seat. It makes sense because this one is jammed. The killer grabbed the most accessible child and likely had little or no contact with the other one."

Sara looked unconvinced for a moment and then nodded silently in his direction. With a resigned sigh she pulled another set of gloves out of her vest pocket and began tugging them on. "So how far did you get?"

"You can do the driver's side." He smiled sheepishly at her.

With a slight roll of her eyes, Sara went to work collecting random samples from the floor on the driver's side. She moved with intent and purpose, quickly becoming engrossed in her task. "Short dark hairs…" She placed them carefully into the bag. "Mom was blonde; didn't Vartan say dad was, too?"

"Yeah."

"Bingo…" She looked almost joyous, as she held up a fingernail that had been torn off at the quick. "Looks like a woman's."

"Could it be the Vic's?" Nick queried.

"It's possible, I suppose, but woman's nails were untorn and fairly well manicured when she died. I don't know about the male vic – this could be his, but this looks a little long for a guy."

"Well some guys have longer nails… guitarists… coke addicts…" Nick noted. "Hey…" He leaned over and grabbed something from under the seat. "I see your fingernail and raise you a bullet casing." He held up his prize before dropping it into a bindle.

Sara was about to retort when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she found two worried blue eyes staring back at her.

"Everything okay…?" Grissom leaned in the car his eyes moving to meet Nick's. A quick nod from the younger man told the nightshift supervisor all he needed to know. "Great, have you found anything probative?"

"Yeah, Sara found a fingernail and I just found a bullet. Likely from the wife because she was a through and through."

"Good." Grissom cast a glance in the detective's direction. "Is the cop who took the baby upstairs still on the scene?"

"Yes, apparently she's guarding the child." Sara responded, at the same time sampling some of the russet stain soaking into the floor carpet. "I wonder if she has short dark hair."

"Nope. It's Officer Myers. She was a strawberry blonde the last time I saw her." Nick put in.

"Brown hair?"

"I found a few short dark hairs and apparently both vics are both blonde." Sara informed her former lover. She was tempted to turn and address him directly, but she was still moderately pissed at his protectiveness, so instead she began digging under the seat. "Didn't Vartan say the father had an entry wound only?"

"Yeah. They're fishing around inside of him for the bullet now." Nick commented absently.

The slim brunette held up a second bullet. "Then I wonder where this came from? The mother was killed with the one shot that went through the left side of her head and took out the window."

"It's possible the killer fired more than two shots…" Nick offered.

"I suppose it's possible the shooter may have missed the target…but from point blank range?" Sara queried, as she stood outside the passenger door and acted out the scenario with an invisible gun.

"Maybe the first one wasn't point blank." Grissom pointed to the driver's window. "It's been shot out. Maybe the shooter was a few feet away when the first bullet was discharged, missed and then moved closer." He moved Sara back a few feet and angled her almost behind the driver and out of view from anyone sitting in the seat. "Your shooter took his or her first shot from here; he snuck up on the couple."

The Texan nodded and swept up some of the glass from the floor behind the driver's seat. "Well three of the four car windows are broken, and this back door was wide open when the police arrived, but the two front doors were actually locked. Maybe the driver or passenger instinctively hit the lock after the first shot was fired." He held up the bag of glass. "And that's why the all the broken windows."

Nick passed the bag to Sara and aimed his own invisible gun at the driver's window. "Bam." He stepped closer. "Bam." Then he leaned in and took a fake shot and the passenger. "Bam." Stepping back the young CSI moved back towards the back seat. "So the doors are now locked. But the killer wouldn't take a chance and shoot the window out with the baby here. He or she had to hit it with something."

"The butt of their gun?" Grissom offered.

"But the back door on the passenger's side was unlocked." Sara pointed out.

"Yeah but that could have been our guys trying to get the other baby out and not disturb the crime scene." The Texan offered.

"So maybe the jammed seat belt had nothing to do with it, it was more about proximity." Sara said almost too herself.

"Lucky baby." Nick muttered.

"Not that lucky." Grissom intoned grimly. "One parent is dead. The other may not survive, and the sibling is missing." With a shake of his head he turned and headed towards the hospital entrance. Half way he stopped and turned towards the twosome still occupied with absorbing his words. He was going to call Nick over, but decided that he was done with hiding his concern and his emotions. He pointed at Sara. "Don't let her out of your sight."

Nick stared at the stoically silent brunette sitting beside him in the truck. Her arms were crossed in front of her and her mouth was set much as it had been for the previous hour. The words he was about to utter caught in his throat but he forced them out. "He didn't say it to be condescending or imply that you can't take care of yourself, you know… He said it because he's worried." He allowed his comment to sink in a moment before continuing, his words softer this time. "We all are."

Sara's eyes drifted out towards the lights of the Las Vegas. It was late into shift and the side streets were almost deserted. The city that never sleeps did in fact take a down time, though the strip, itself, was always busy. A simple nod of her head betrayed the anger she was still feeling.

"Look I tell you what. If you put a smile on that face of yours, I'll take you over to the canyon ranch café and spring for a veggie burger." He looked over at his passenger and tossed a shit eating grin her way. "I might even force one down myself."

At that Sara couldn't help but smile. "You've made me an offer I can't refuse, Cowboy."

"Hah…" He smiled and winked in her direction. "I knew I would get you with that. And they say the way to a man's heart is through HIS stomach…"

An outright giggle escaped his companion. "Oh this is not about me. I just remember someone saying not so long ago that if he wanted to chew on a haystack he'd go home and steal one from the barn."

"You're not actually going hold me to eating a veggie burger are you?" Mock horror spread across Nick's face.

"Hell yes. A deals a deal and believe me when I say – I am looking forward to watching you… a hard core carnivore, eat his very words."

Nick rolled his eyes so Sara could see, but was secretly grateful that he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do.

Fifteen minutes later Nick was busily twisting the red checkered napkin through his fingers, as Sara deftly stole a French fry off his plate. "I told you should have gone whole hog and got the fries." He grinned.

"God. That's the last thing I need; a plateful of fat and more fat and mega carbs." She swallowed down the item in question and stole another.

"You can't be serious, Sara. You've got to be at least 10 lbs underweight." He eyed her slender physique. Under normal circumstances she was insanely thin, but the trauma of recent events had her looking positively gaunt. "…Besides men like curves."

Her cheeks pinked slightly. "Are you kidding me? This from the guy who dates rakish dancers, and see through flight attendants?"

It was Nick's turn to blush. "Yeah, well they're just the fun models. Nuthin serious. My mom, she's nice you know. I mean, average weight, average build, pretty, but not over done. That's what most men like. Real. You know… not the fantasy." He nodded at the waiter as he dropped the burgers in front of them, and then beat a hasty retreat.

"The fantasy?" Sara inquired squeezing some mustard onto her burger.

"Yeah…" he drew a luscious outline of a woman in the air. "…the legs, the boobs, the perfect teeth, skin, bleached blonde hair, and a stellar bikini body…" He shrugged, and grabbed the mustard from her. "The fantasy… Guys may date that, but when it comes down to, you know, settling down and stuff, real is the way to go."

"There are some women who posses all of that naturally." Sara pointed out.

"Not many. And the ones who do know it." The Texan rebutted, popping the top back on his burger and picking it up.

"So you wanna marry your momma?" She teased in a bad rendition of a southern accent.

"Not her, but someone like her." He bit into the soy burger and chewed. "This place." He nodded towards the city lights. "This is as far from real as you can get, and women's idea of beauty here, is so skewed." He swallowed. "I once dated a woman who was naturally gorgeous, and all she did was obsess over plastic surgery, and enhancing her chest, and lips. It got to be too much."

"So was she the one?" Sara asked biting into her own dinner.

"No. I mean. I guess she could have been, but Vegas is a hard place to find a nice girl." He stared at his partner's tentative smile of acknowledgement. She could very easily have been the one, but he didn't have the heart to tell her. He swallowed heavily.

"Maybe you'll meet her when you go home for a holiday."

Nick's eyes drifted off and he refused meet her gaze, lest she see his true feelings in them. "Maybe…"

"Well just for your information. I am normally a normal weight." She dabbed at a bit of ketchup which had gathered at the corner of her mouth. "Besides, there's a difference between gaining weight healthfully and doing your best to clog your arteries. I swear Warrick just mainlines grease on a daily basis… Have you ever seen the junk he eats…?" Sara asked moving away from what was obviously becoming an uncomfortable subject for the man across from her.

A genuine smile spread across her partner's face. "Hey, hey… We eat a lot of the same foods, woman."

"Grits? Fries? double burgers? Chocolate fudge brownie sundaes? Overstuffed burritos with the works? Fried ice cream?" Sara offered, taking a second bite.

"Mmmm…You can't beat the sundaes from the Emporium…" All in all the burger he was indulging in was a little dry, but for the most part surprisingly tasty. Not that he would ever let the slender brunette know that. "And I could easily go for a thick juicy double double from In and Out right now."

Sara laughed and rolled her eyes. "You are such a Texan."

"Lucky me… and don't you forget it." He winked, and then dropped the remnants of his burger back on his plate before grabbing at the vibrating phone in his pocket.

Checking the number on her own buzzing cell Sara didn't answer it; instead she placed it on the table beside her and dove into another bite of her dinner.

"Doc's back at the morgue, and he and super Dave are beginning to process our vic." Nick flipped the phone shut and scooped up a couple of fries.

The pretty brunette nodded, Doc Robbins had sent her the same information. "We should get back."

"No we'll finish dinner first." Nick nodded towards his partner's plate. "The dead can wait."

Grissom generally prided himself on his detachment from most situations. Dead kids bothered him, dead infants even moreso. The weak of society, and the helpless, always managed to make their way into his heart. It wasn't something he voluntarily showed, so his team rarely saw it. This is why it had been such a release for him when he and Sara finally allowed themselves to be together. Through each other they'd been able to vanquish the shared trauma of their job, and fight their demons and nightmares as a couple. For the first time, in a long time it he'd moved beyond 'okay' emotionally, and had drifted into a state that could only be described as bliss.

It was addictive. Much like a junkie's first hit of crack; one little taste of Sara had left him wanting for more.

"She's right over here." A short, stocky gray haired nurse arthritically led the way towards a small plastic bassinette in the corner of the neonatal ward and then turned once she'd reached it. "She's been fed, so she should be cooperative." Nurse Betty announced, at the same time slipping a finger under the edge of the soft pink blanket and pulling it back from the sleeping baby's cherub like face.

Grissom perused the empty pastel imbued room, and the blood spattered infant seat and blanket that had been left abandoned in the middle it. It was a stark and brutal contrast to the painted animalia that had been affixed to the walls. He nodded to the older woman. "There was supposed to be an officer with him…?"

"She had to go to the washroom a few minutes ago. I told her I wouldn't let anyone near her, until she got back."

Grissom's eyebrows crept up his forehead.

"You have the proper ID, Dr. Grissom, and the young woman said that someone from the crime lab would be up to process the baby." The nurse assured the criminalist.

There was a quick bob of acceptance, and then Grissom steeled his heart and slipped into professional mode. "I'm going to need a change of clothes, a fresh blanket. And because the child was placed in the bassinette, I'm going to need the bedding too."

The nurse nodded and reached under the bassinette, pulling out the things that the nightshift supervisor had requested. "Would you like some help?" She eyed him uncertainly.

"No. I've handled infants before." He responded absently, already settling in and slipping on his gloves. Then as an afterthought he turned to the woman before she could leave. "I am going to need a DNA sample from you as well."

"I'll be around; you can have them page me when you're done here." With that she turned and hobbled out the door.

He hadn't been lying when he said he'd handled infants before. What he'd omitted was the fact that they were usually dead. It was a macabre thought and he pushed it aside as he slowly unraveled the tiny baby.

"She looks a little like a baby burrito, doesn't she…?"

Grissom looked up to catch Officer Murphy smiling at him. Barely old enough to be out of the academy, the attractive blonde haired, blue eyed woman looked almost petite in the overwhelming LVPD uniform. "Infants are supposed to be wrapped up fairly tightly. The blanket is almost like a cocoon, simulates being in the mother's abdomen, and makes the baby feel warm, secure and protected especially the first few months." Picking up the little bundle he marveled at how light she was. The amount of time Grissom had actually spent holding a small child was amazingly miniscule despite the vast number of cases he'd seen over the years. Usually, he was he one who would place the infant in the coroner's van, but he often made short work of it, and almost never stopped to think of how light the child was, or how the child looked. Times like those, he tried not to think at all.

"Spoken like a father or maybe grandfather, Dr. Grissom." The young woman stepped closer and placed her hand on the tiny baby's back as it squawked slightly.

"Neither." If Officer Myers had known him at all she might have detected the note of wistfulness in his voice, but because of their lack of familiarity, it went completely undetected. "Just a scientist who makes it a point to know things."

"Ah…" She nodded as the baby fidgeted some more and turned a bright shade of red. "Well then I guess you probably know that this little one might need her diaper changed."

Grissom grimaced at this and then bobbed his head. "Well I have to take her diaper and all of her clothes, anyway. She might as well get something out of the deal.

The officer laughed at that, and studied the criminalist's movements as Grissom held the child and made short work of removing her blanket, and pale pink sleeper. "Good girl…" he murmured as he placed the items in a plastic bag beside him and returned the unfocused brown eyed gaze that seem to be affixed to him.

Still red faced and obviously working hard, the baby pouted and squawked again. Drawing a fresh blanket over the child Grissom removed the tiny cap from her head and then ran a warm glove covered hand over the downy beige strands that passed for hair. He tried unsuccessfully not to think about what his and Sara's baby would have looked like as he gripped the cap and added it to his collection.

"She's beautiful…" Officer Myers cooed.

Trying to ignore that fact, and the sadness surrounding the child's present situation, Grissom pointed his chin at the young woman, and then nodded towards the sink behind her. "Can you wet a cloth for me?"

"Sure." Officer Myers made her way over to the sink, while Grissom continued to study the small bundle at his fingertips. Sara had shiny dark brown hair, and he in his younger days had had light brown. Her eyes were a dancing chocolate, while his were blue. Blue eyes were a recessive gene, so their child had a possibility chance of having the same color eyes as he did, depending ion whether there were any blue eyed people in Sara's family and if she carried the allele. The one picture he'd seen of Sara's mother indicated that she looked very much like her daughter. Maybe her father had had blue or green eyes? He was just beginning to do the math on hair color when the young officer returned. In her hand she was holding two damp clothes and a dry one, along with some cream. "Babies can be messy," she explained simply.

A nod was Grissom's response as he stripped the diaper off the child to reveal something that looked like day old road kill. It took more than a few quick swipes with the cloths, but he made short work of the task, and had her cleaned and dry in no time. In a separate plastic bag, he placed all three washcloths, and then meticulously bagged the soiled diaper in yet another smaller bindle. He was about to put the fresh diaper on the child when Officer Myers held out the cream to him.

Holding up his gloved hand he wagged his fingers at her. "You're going to need to do that." A minute or so later the small child was creamed and diapered. "Can you pass me another blanket?" He requested, stripping off his gloves and then lifting the wiggling child into the warmth of his arms. A small whimper escaped the infant as the cold air hit her full on.

"You would never know that you don't have children, Dr. Grissom." The blond woman smiled shyly.

A grunt was all she received, as Grissom wrapped his squirming armful in the new blanket and then placed her in a clean bassinette. Following the nurse's earlier actions he reached into the cupboard underneath and pulled out a hospital issued toque and pulled it onto the child's head. One tiny fist broke free of the blanket, and grasped his baby finger. Up to that moment the somber CSI had considered himself as doing just fine. Or at least that's what he'd told himself. But the baby's grip though weak, had the power to bring tears to his eyes. "I'm going to need you to dress her, while I finish up," the nightshift supervisor, announced. Swallowing his words around the lump in his throat he quickly removed the tiny hand from his finger like it burned, and then turned back collect the rest of his evidence.

A clock ticked solemnly in the corner of the room as Sara Sidle stared at it for the fifth time in as many minutes. Though she was at loath to admit it, she was exhausted. It was an hour prior to shift's end and all she really wanted to do was go home. Not that she knew where home really was anymore, but anywhere with a soft bed and clean linen would do at that particular moment.

Bending over one of the infant car seats with a magnifying glass she searched for anything out of the ordinary. Mandy it seemed had scored the prize with some blood samples - all of which had matched the vics, and a wad of dirty diaper, the contents of which she had been unhappily working her way through the last time they'd talked. Other than that, examination of the second infant's belongings had turned up nothing. Yet… she admonished herself.

Spattered in what was presumably the mother's blood and brain matter the baby's car seat was the last to be processed. There had been little else in terms of evidence. The clothing, blanket, and bassinette sheets were immaculate, and any skin cells collected had come back to the nurse, officer, child and parents. One unknown had been discovered, but hopes were dashed when it was matched to the Hispanic floor nurse in the maternity ward. She had been the one to check the young family out and admitted to handling the small living bundle. A covering blanket, and the visor of the car seat had taken the brunt of the mess, and it was these two things that were taking the longest to process. Midway through her task Sara was oblivious to the sound of footprints until they stopped beside her.

"How are things going?"

His voice was soft and almost melancholy. Sara couldn't help but meet his gaze. "Messy, and there's nothing probative so far." She swabbed a sample of blood that seemed out of place and then labeled it, doing her best to hide her shaking hands from the man beside her. She bit her lip. "How is the other infant?"

"She appeared to be okay." Grissom leaned in and gripped Sara's upper arm as she reached for another swab. "How are you?"

His touch made it hard to think, but she shoved away the rush of emotion it brought on and threw a false smile his way. "I'm fine." She knew that he knew when she wasn't being completely honest so she hurriedly added. "I mean, I'm a little tired but that's normal right?" She looked anywhere but at him. "And you?"

His sea blue eyes pierced her skin; his gaze saying more than he ever could verbally.

"It was hard."

Sara nodded.

"It's always hard when children are involved, but this… this was..." His words trailed off as his eyes drifted to the blood-spattered blanket. "I kept thinking, that-"

"Stop." Sara shook her head. She knew what he was going to say and didn't want to hear it. "I'm fine -"

"You're not fine. You can't be, because I'm not." Grasping her hand he placed it against his heart. "With each passing day I feel the loss a little more and this whole thing was all new to me. I didn't know about it for weeks, feel the changes in my body; make decisions that involved my life, his/her life..."

The slim brunette averted her eyes and shook her head. "Please stop." Her voice was small.

"I can't Sara… I don't want to relive it anymore than you do, but work just doesn't help in this case. I find myself being blindsided in moments of silence." He used his free hand to turn her face towards him. He needed to see if what he was feeling was reflected in her eyes, and he wasn't disappointed.

A single tear ran down her cheek. Tugging her hand from his, she stripped her gloves off, dropped them into an open bindle, and then turned away. "I feel like I've been crying forever."

Closing the door to the room and drawing the blinds, he moved up behind her. "It's okay to cry. It can be healing." Wrapping his arms around her he rested his chin on her shoulder and he drew her back against him.

"We're at the lab." She reached to unclasp his hands. "Someone's going to see us."

"Not likely. This is why you chose this place. No one ever comes here except you."

He knew her too well. Sara's first instinct was to pull away, and find some safety in distance, but then she felt wetness on the cheek resting against hers and her heart melted. Turning she took Grissom's damp face between her two palms and gently kissed away his tears before allowing herself to be pulled into a solid embrace. Together they shared their heartbreak.

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

AN: For all pertinent information (disclaimer)… please see chapter 1. My apologies for the majorly long wait on this chapter… I haven't stopped writing and will finish this just so you know - but you may have to be patient. I am very busy at the moment with a whole bunch of stuff. This chapter has been sitting on my computer almost ready for the last 3 months. I simply haven't had time to get to it. Also not beta'd. I have checked it of course, but you know how small stuff can slip by! Thanks for your immense patience. You are all great readers. And thanks so much for the reviews. It's too bad that this is the only place you can see Sara and Grissom these days!

Chapter 30

"Hey Brass, what do you got?" Greg Sanders gave the police captain a slight nod and moved up beside the detective. In the distance he could see the sun beginning to break across the mountains and with it came clear blue skies and the looming heat of the day. It looked like it was going to be another scorcher and surprisingly enough felt like it too. The normal desert nightfall had cooled things off, but only marginally. The words "impending heat wave" had been etched across the front of the early morning paper and it looked like Mother Nature was doing her best to live up to that prediction.

There was a coil of exhaustion woven through the detective's words as he pointed to the red mustang a security guard had found hidden behind the 'Screwed Up : tool and die' warehouse. That was a play on words if there ever was one; Jim Brass thought absently, as he rubbed the stubble forming on his chin and started his explanation. "The rent a cop over there thought he'd found a drunk trying to sleep it off, or something, but the blood tipped him off and he gave us a call."

The young CSI nodded in the direction of the car and headed over to it, the captain trailing along behind him. "This looks like it's from your Baker case, and that makes it part of my case, according Grissom."

"Yeah…" The young CSI responded vaguely, his eyes trailing a curious path along the interior of the abandoned vehicle. "Definitely looks like it's the right car." Greg's nose twitched as if to punctuate his thought, and he bent in slightly to peruse the back seat through the darkened windows. Dragging a set of gloves out of his pocket, he slipped them on. "Pretty big mess." Despite the fact that the doors were closed, the smell of iron still permeated the air around the Mustang, and the dried and crusting blood inside the car left little question as to it's recent history.

"Plates have been changed, but the VIN number matches that of the rental company." Brass told him, at the same time accepting a cup of coffee from one of the officers on the scene.

"Smart…changing out the plates bought her a little more time. But then she would have known that being one of us."

"I don't think she's really a part of the human race, Greg, let alone one of us."

Brass' comment brought a grimace to the younger man's face and he bobbed his head in agreement. "Did he touch the car?" Greg nodded towards the dark skinned; uniformed man slouched uncomfortably between two cops a mere 5 feet away.

"He says no, but I would process him anyway."

Another nod, followed up by a squint indicated the former lab rat was trying to prioritize the scene. "Don't let him go. I'm going to process the car first. Catching Alicia or whatever her name is, takes priority. I'll get started here. The sooner we get this done and back to the lab, the better."

"You on your own?" Brass eyed him quizzically.

"Warrick or Nick will be along soon, they can handle the guard." Greg Sanders responded, as he pulled his camera out of the bag, and began taking locators and close ups of the exterior of the car. "Any other leads?"

"Nah." The detective scowled and nodded in the direction of the car. "You're looking at it."

"So she's in the wind…?" It was more of a statement than question and it was left dangling precariously mid-air. If that was the case, it was up to the CSIs to find her; otherwise things did not bode well for the safety of Sara or Catherine.

"For now." Brass did his best to keep the frustration and anger plaguing him out of his voice, but he was unsuccessful. "She doesn't seem to be trying to hide much," he indicated the print smeared steering wheel and door handle. "You got a match on the hair, right?"

Once they'd suspected it was Alicia who'd been involved in the death of Tammy Baker, the detective had been given a full report. Official confirmation hadn't come to him yet, but Brass was more than sure that the whack job Grissom had gotten himself involved with was behind the brutal murder.

"Yeah, just before I left." The young man nodded, at the same time printing the door handle, and then opening the vehicle carefully. "It was hers." He examined the interior, the thick cloying stench of warm blood messing with his olfactory nerves. "I wonder if she's on foot now. She's dumped the car…" He left the comment open ended as he began to document the inner confines of the Mustang.

"I have my guys out scanning the neighborhood, and we're monitoring for any car thefts in a 20 mile radius." The detective informed the younger man. "We'll probably hear soon enough if she nabbed a nearby car. Someone on their way to work will walk out of the house and realize its missing."

"Maybe, but she could have had something set up before she dumped the mustang." Warrick commented as he sauntered up and joined the conversation.

Brass nodded at the new arrival. "Could be, but she's working on her own. That means any other vehicle would have needed to be here before she dumped this one."

"I don't think she had time to be that prepared." Greg called back over his shoulder. "I mean, she's on the run right?"

"Yeah, but she coulda had a plan in place even before she got in this deep. Crazy doesn't mean stupid, and she's been on the run for a few years now, so she knows the game." The detective pointed out.

"She could have cabbed it." Warrick offered.

"That would be too easy, and with the amount of blood in here she's gotta be covered in it. I mean splitting a woman's head open is messy work, but I'm having my people look into it, anyway." Brass' hand swiped absently at the exhaustion blurring his eyes. It had been a while since he'd slept, even longer since he'd showered and shaved.

Greg stood up, labeled his blood sample, and dropped it in his case. "She's on her own. Very easy in Vegas to just disappear, especially if you're just one person. If I were her I woulda, changed my clothes, cleaned up somehow, walked from here to the nearest store, messed with my appearance, and hopped a bus out of town."

"Yeah but she's fucked up, man." Warrick responded, pulling his gloves out of his pocket and snapping them on. "For most people survival takes precedence over everything else. Commit a crime and if the cops are onto you, run as fast as you can and as far as you can, especially if it's murder. But she's out for blood, why else would she stick around?" Squinting at the back bumper and trunk area the tall dark man nodded towards it. "Did you print the back here?

"No, just took the stills." Greg replied, slipping a long dark red hair into a baggy and labeling it.

"Some people are just inherently stupid." Brass sipped his coffee and grimaced. "You know as well as I do not everyone who commits a crime runs. They all think they are going to get away with it."

"I know. But she knows we're onto her, and you said it yourself, she's already on the run. The fact that she's still in Vegas is tells me she wants revenge or satisfaction or something I can't come close to explaining." Pulling out a fingerprint strip, the tall dark man placed it over what looked like two blood smeared prints. "And in my opinion that's what makes her dangerous; she values revenge above her own life."

Greg and Brass just nodded silently knowing full well that he was probably right.

* * *

"Can you spell exhausted?" Nick stared at the young woman in the passenger's seat. Her eyes were closed and she was resting her head against the window.

"Can't spell… too tired." She grinned but didn't bother opening her eyes against the low slung sun of a new day.

"I hear you." The Texan pressed his foot against the petal as the signal changed and began a mediocre crawl along an already crowded strip. "Listen, why don't you let me take you home? Shift's over. I can go back and talk to Doc alone. No need for both of us to be there.

One brown eye opened and for a moment Sara silently studied the man seated beside her. The look on her face said it all; there was no way she was going to do that, and he knew it even before he suggested it. It was his barely audible sigh in response to her lack of one, which caused her to smirk. "Nice try pardner…"

"Mmm…" Nick grimaced and slammed his hand on the horn, at the driver in front of him. "I tell you, people in Vegas do not know how to drive!"

"It's the tourists. They're so awestruck they don't watch where there going or what their doing." Sara mumbled not even bothering to open her eyes. "Hey, has there been any news on the father in our case? He should be out of surgery by now."

"He should, but Vartan said he'd give us a call as soon as he knows, maybe it took longer than they expected to patch him up."

"If they could patch him up." Sara intoned softly.

Preferring not to think about it Nick made a quick turn off the strip and started down the road that would take them to the lab. "We should make a trip out to the couple's house as soon as we're done with Doc."

"Yup, and we need to touch base with Vartan, he should have done a background check on the two of them. We are going to need to talk to any family they may have." Sara added with a low groan.

"That should take us until at least noon."

"And you wanted to get rid of me." Sara smirked. Sitting up she gave up on trying to nap and reached into her purse for a gum. "The two of us working together will get it done much faster." She offered one to Nick and then stuck the package back into her purse when he shook his head.

"I would still rather have you go back and get some sleep." The attractive Texan stated honestly.

"We'll both grab some shut eye after we've checked out the couple's place, okay?"

Nick shifted his gaze from the road and stared at her momentarily before pulling into the parking lot and gliding to a stop. "Promise?"

"I suspect by that time we'll both be too tired to argue the point." She smiled unbuckling and stepping out of the vehicle.

Grissom was waiting for them as the entered the morgue. "Dad died on the table half an hour ago. The maternal grandparents are on there way into town to take custody of the infant in the hospital."

Sara and Nick exchanged sad glances and merely nodded.

The slim brunette was the first to break the relative silence as they all took up residence around the body. "I wonder if Wendy has the results on the hair I found."

"She's backed up." Grissom informed her, his blue eyes asking her what his mouth couldn't. Sara averted her own chocolate orbs, so he continued. "They found the mustang from the Baker case an hour ago. She's processing the blood from that along with some other stuff that's come in. It's got priority." Sara made to argue, but he waved her off, his eyes seeking Nick's. In them, there was a silent request for support. "And don't think this is about you. It's not. While it's important to me that we catch her because of the threat she poses to you, it's also about the fact that Catherine's not safe, and Alicia's already proven that she will kill randomly to get whatever she wants. She's a serious threat to the people of Las Vegas, residents and tourists alike."

Nick nodded, his hand moving to Sara's shoulder. "He's right. I want to catch whoever's responsible in our case, but you know as well as I do, that priority is given to the biggest threat."

The dark haired CSI nodded almost tersely, her manner confirming that while the protocol was something she was well aware of, it wasn't necessarily something she agreed with.

"I made sure she knew your samples are up next, and she's agreed to work overtime until they're done. I would have had the day's tech run them but he's off sick." That issue put to bed; he eyed the two and continued. "Doc got a call out to the alphabet district, but before he left he confirmed COD – fatal gunshot wound. Her body has been cleaned, and any extra trace has been sent up already. There's really not much to tell you, it looks like the shooter didn't come anywhere near mom. Most of the trace will probably come back with a link to the hospital.``

"Why were they leaving at that hour?" Sara's eyes flitted between the two men. "I mean it was in the evening… aren't normal discharges done during the day."

"I asked the nurse the same question. Apparently they had no insurance. Mom had a problem with the delivery so they wanted to keep her the full 24 hours. She gave birth around the same time the evening before so that would bring her up to the 24 hour mark. They were still concerned about her, but the couple had insisted on mom and babies being released as they couldn't afford another day's stay."

"If they'd stayed they'd probably still be alive." Nick muttered. More rhetorical than factual, he hadn't expected a response to his statement from Grissom but got one none the same.

"Actually, that depends on motive." Grissom moved down near the feet of the lifeless young woman laying supine on the cold steel table, and absently tugged the white sheet gathered there, up over her unseeing eyes. "If this was random, then you're probably right, since I suppose any baby would do. But there is always the possibility that this wasn't random. Maybe a vendetta against the couple, old boyfriend, new lover, someone who believed they had a right to the child or children…"

"Yeah but in a scenario like that wouldn't the perpetrator take both children?" Sara looked unconvinced, her eyes turning from the sheet in front her to that man on the other side of the table.

"Maybe he or she ran out of time? Wasn't able to take both children. Got interrupted… There could any number of reasons why."

"We really need to go to their place. Talk to friends, neighbors. Get some background on these two." Nick's dark eyes met a similar pair beside him. "I'll call Vartan, and we'll head over there in about…" He cast a quick glance at his watch and then reached for his phone as it let out a melodic bleep. "Mom…" He muttered surprised, as his family name lit up the screen. Turning to Sara he started walking backwards towards the door. "Gonna go up top, the reception sucks down here… 10 minutes okay…?"

A small smile crossed the young woman's face as she watched her partner practically run out of the room. It was a testament to his family and his loyalty to them that his response was so swift. Had the call been from her own mother, dread would have settled in first then been followed by a quick depression of the disconnect button.

"You should go back to the condo and get some sleep." Grissom's words broke the unease of her thoughts and brought with them a rush of warmth at his concern, and a touch of annoyance.

"I will." She bit back the negative emotion immediately and heaved a small sigh. "As soon as we've gone to see the neighbors, and maybe talk to a few friends."

"I meant now. Nick can take this on his own and if he needs help I'll go with him."

"It's our case Gris. I can't leave him to do all the work."

"I'm involved in it as well and while I agreed to have you back at the lab and let you work this case, I won't hesitate to pull you off if I think you are overdoing it."

Sara tamped down the anger burning in her chest, knowing full well that he probably wanted her to go off on him at this point, just so he could send her home. Forcing a pained smile she did her best to remind herself that he was only concerned about her well being then responded with a false lightness. "I will. Promise. But it'll be a hell of a lot faster if I help him. This isn't your only case. You have several on the go. If I head back to the condo now I won't be able to sleep. This will be on my mind." The last comment was an outright lie. She could probably sleep standing up with very little effort. "Give us an hour or so and then we'll all pack it in, Okay?" She looked at the dark circles beneath his eyes. He too was suffering from sleep deprivation. "But that means you as well…"

Grissom grimaced and nodded, his hand unconsciously moving to the small of her back as the two of them turned to leave the lab. "One hour Ms. Sidle." He rumbled. His words were a warning, but at the same time she could feel the concern woven through them.

"You've got a deal Dr. Grissom."

* * *

"Not a great neighborhood." The comment fell casually from Nicks lips as the two CSI's scanned the small cul de sac.

"Working class." She'd seen many over the years and had actually lived in several. Most of the homes on the street were probably rentals, since they appeared to be poorly maintained. In fact, Jonas' small one story was the only one on the block that looked like there had been some effort applied to its appearance. A small amount of xeriscaping in the yard and a fresh coat of paint on the front door was a testament to someone trying to make it a home.

"So everything's okay?" Sara glanced the man standing on the front porch next to her, before allowing her eyes to wander down the other side of the street. For entire ride over, Nick had been on the phone, a series of grunts, and "yes mom's" punctuating his side of the conversation.

"Well that depends on who you ask." Nick grinned, his hand drawing a set of keys from an evidence bag. "Mom's ecstatic; we've never had triplets in the family. My sister is too tired to think and it's only just begun and my brother in law, well…they were expecting two babies not three, so shock doesn't come close to describing it." A slight guffaw escaped him. "Serves them right for trying for a third now it'll be another 5 years before they can get a good night's sleep.." Slipping the key into the lock he flipped it sideways and pushed the door open when he heard the telltale click.

"That's mean…" Sara couldn't help but laugh, as she began to move around the small space. It was tidy, and though most of the furniture seemed to be mismatched and likely from a thrift shop, it felt like someone had tried to make a nice space.

"No it's honest." Nick replied, grabbing the unopened mail from the mailbox and placed it on the table. "They were hoping for a boy, but now they have 5 girls. That's what you get for tempting fate."

"Ah… King Henry the 8th syndrome." Sara commented mildly.

"In spades. John's a fisherman; hunter and sports fanatic who believes a woman's place is in the home." Picking up a small framed photo from the end table he studied the happy couple before placing it back almost reverently. "He wanted a boy so he could do all those things with a son."

"Then I guess he'll have to take one of the girls instead." Sara put in as she made her way into the kitchen.

"Not likely, he'll just spend even more time with his buddies, and leave my sister home alone with the kids." There was a note of tempered anger in his voice, drawing a curious look from Sara.

Grabbing a stack of bills of the counter, the slim brunette sifted through it. "Sounds like you disapprove."

"Hell yeah…" He perused the small living space and then headed into the brightly painted room at the end of it, his explanation trailing behind him. "Part of being a family is doing things together. It's okay to go out every now and then to hang with the guys, or go on a fishing trip, but there's such a thing as too much, and he passed that line long ago."

"How long have they been married?"

Sara's voice sounded distant as Nick wandered the tiny yellow baby's room. Picking up a stuffed giraffe he read the nameplate still attached to it. "To my precious grandbabies…Welcome!" The handwriting was almost childlike and spoke of someone who likely had difficulty with basic motor skills. "Seven years."

"That's a pretty good run." There was a grin in her voice, as she began to sort through a small stack of papers on a nearby desk. "Your sister must be pretty tolerant."

"Yeah…" Nick shuffled from the baby's room to the master bedroom. "She's a pushover. Now my oldest sister woulda kicked his ass out a long time ago, but Jules has always been one to buy into the 'you made your bed, now you lie in it' analogy."

Sara grimaced. "Some people are very much a product of their environment…" she mumbled absently, then at once she realizing what she'd said, the slim brunette turned an apology perched on her lips.

Nick was already waving it off as he finished a quick visual examination of the couple's room and moved towards his partner. "You are absolutely right. That was my parents' favorite saying."

"But I take it you don't abide by it?" Dropping the stack she opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out another pile of papers; this one larger.

Reaching over the tall Texan grabbed half of the pile and began flipping through them. "Well I'm all for accepting responsibility, but that doesn't mean you have to drown in a situation and live with it forever just because you are paying your dues. There has to be a midline somewhere. Right?" Knitting his brows together he perused the document in his hand and scanned a little further down the page.

"Well said." Sara grinned at the man beside her.

"You know what my sister's problem is?" Nick asked flipping to the second page of the document. When the slim brunette didn't answer, he continued. "At some point in her life someone managed to convince her that she wasn't as good as everyone else. Then she became a door mat for a guy named John."

The subtext of the conversation wasn't lost on Sara. Turning she threw a stern look his way. "I'm not a door mat for Grissom."

"Nope… no you're not. But you come close to it sometimes, and you have to admit that there are times you seem to value yourself a little less than those around you." When Sara's eyes shifted from his Nick dropped the paper in his hand and touched her lightly on the chin to redirect her dark orbs back to him. "You need to know that's not the case, princess. K?"

A sad grin lit up the young woman's face and she nodded. "Point taken, partner."

"Good." Nick's eyes lit up and he tapped the paper he'd just set aside. "This may just be what we're looking for."

Sara leaned in to examine the document. "Ex-boyfriend claiming paternity…"

The dark haired man flipped a few pages in, and pointed at the letterhead. "An angry ex-boyfriend by the looks of it."

"Restraining order… someone's got a temper." Sara grabbed the rest of the pile she'd been going through and flipped through it rapidly before returning it and the rest of Nick's pile back to the drawer.

"Whatta ya say we had this over to Vartan and finally grab a few winks?"

Sara stifled a small yawn. "Sounds like a plan!"

* * *

"You got a VW bug?" Nick slipped his sunglasses on and stared at the car nestled beside his in the lab's parking lot.

Sara shrugged and grinned at the little red convertible. "Whenever I look at it I am overcome by this incredible urge to paint big black polka dots on it."

A tired guffaw was stifled by a yawn. "Jimmy does have a sense of humor."

Pulling the keys from her purse, Sara squinted in the mid morning sun. "Your friend told me that it was the only one they had available on such short notice."

"Yeah, his agency is small but he's pretty busy, even off season." Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he moved towards his truck and popped the trunk. "When is your insurance company going to let you get a new one?"

"They have no choice but to settle for full market value, so I can go to the dealership whenever, but we've been a bit busy."

Another yawn escaped the exhausted Texan as he slammed the back hood closed. "You know, if you want I can take you when this is all over. I'm friends with a few of the dealers in town; I can probably get you a good deal on whatever you want."

A toothy grin spread across the slim brunette's face. "Thanks. That sounds like a plan." Slipping the key in the lock Sara waited for the click, pulled the door open and tossed her purse onto the passenger's seat. "Well I guess I'll see you at the condo..."

Nick bit his lip and let his eyes settle on a palm tree at the end of the parking lot. "Uh... yeah... I'm gonna go to my place this morning just to check things out... they 're mid repair and I want to see what's up."

Sara squinted at him speculatively for a moment and nodded slowly, uncertain as to why her chest felt heavy. "Okay... well that shouldn't take too long. If you want I can grab a light lunch and we can have it before bed..."

A lump rose in his throat at the thought, but he swallowed it down and forced a smile.

"Sugar britches, you need to get some sleep, and I may be held up there waiting for the contractor to show. So go home, go to bed...and I'll see you later."

Sara nodded. "Okay..." Climbing into the car she rolled the window down to let some of the stiflingly hot air out.

Nick was about to slip into his own driver's seat, when he caught an almost lost look on Sara's face. "Hey… Gris is headed back to the condo too… right?"

A nod followed by a small smile graced the young CSI's face. "Yeah, he said he had to finish up a report and would meet us there in about 30 minutes."

"You want me to come and stay with you until he gets there…?"

Sara shook her head. It wasn't that she was concerned about being alone, at all. It was being alone with Grissom without a buffer that was causing her trepidation. Their private interactions had been becoming increasingly more intimate and she could feel her resolve weakening. "I'll be fine, Nick. I don't need a babysitter."

Nick pursed his lips and nodded. "I know… I just thought you might not want to be alone."

"I'm good. Go do what you have to do before they add on some extra bedrooms or something. Besides you are never going to get any sleep if don`t leave now."

The Texan tossed her a tired smile. "`k buttercup, I`ll see you when you get up, then...`` Climbing into the car he watched as she pulled out of the parking lot, and then followed loosely behind her... He`d go to his place. But he would make sure she got home first...

to be continued...


End file.
